


Till Our Lonely Limbs Collide

by stephaniereads



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (I think?), Abuse, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Original Character(s), Unreliable Narrator, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 11:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11622606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephaniereads/pseuds/stephaniereads
Summary: Harry's a runaway and Zayn wants to bring him home.Title from "You & I" by Pvris





	Till Our Lonely Limbs Collide

**Author's Note:**

> “Always felt like you were left behind,  
> but you’re right where you need to be.  
> We were lost, found a place to hide,  
> Seeking shelter, seeking better lives for you and for me.  
> I’ve got a question let me ask it for a second,  
> Can I be the one you always need?”
> 
> -Have Mercy-"Howl"
> 
>  
> 
> ~

Everyone ascends eventually, if they have the blood in them. There’s no specific age though it usually occurs later in the teens, early twenties. There’s no triggering event, no clear process or plan to follow. It happens and you’d better be ready for it when it does. It burns from the inside out, feels like every bone cracks, feels like it could end in death.

Everyone ascends. But not everyone has a pack to be a part of when they do. Harry thought he did. Harry thought the transition would be smooth, that he’d _know_ just as everyone else did. 

Something never clicked. Harry guessed that the rest of the pack felt the same by the way they treated him like an outsider, like he was unwanted. Like an omega without the title.

It never got better, only worse. Problems in the pack would be taken out on him and he was beaten, insulted, cursed to be packless forever. But if he tried to leave, they wouldn’t let him. They were twisted, the wolves he ran with, needed someone to pick on and couldn’t just let Harry go. So he left.

It took longer than Harry wanted, but it needed to be as clean and quiet as possible. He couldn’t get caught. He packed what little he owned into a bag, sometimes only squeezing in a few items over a span of days. His toiletries and personal belongings disappeared from the bathroom and dressers and countertops one by one, unnoticed, shoved in his bag or tossed in the trash.

When the night arrives for him to leave, it works out almost too perfectly. The pack is going out for a hunt he’s not welcome on.

“Fend for yourself, kid,” are the last words Harry hears that evening and he’s glad he didn’t bother to pay attention to who said them. 

He gives it half an hour to be sure nobody returns, till their scent is nearly impossible to make out. And he leaves. With one backpack stuffed with things strapped securely around him, Harry bolts from the pack that’s turned his short life into a temporary hell and doesn’t look back. The adrenaline rush of it, of sneaking away, of finally running towards something new, something better, distracts him from realizing he’s changing as he runs, picking up speed because of it.

Harry darts around trees, feels the brisk air rushing passed him and has to contain his urge to howl. He runs till he can’t anymore, till he’s gasping for breath and sweating profusely. Harry runs till the air is vacant of the scent of the pack he never belonged to.

~

Harry doesn’t have much in his backpack- some clothes, water, a blanket, a few small belongings that he managed to fit. Other than that, he’s got the clothes on his back, the ratty boots on his feet, the jewelry he never takes off. 

Harry pulls the blanket out of the bag, panting as he waits to catch his breath. He leans against a tree, sliding down till his bottom hits the dirt beneath him. He’s tired, relieved, nervous, excited, feeling too much all at once. He hasn’t bothered to check his watch till now- he ran for almost five hours. It’s early, but it feels late. So Harry sleeps, barely peacefully, but it’s enough for now.

~

Harry awakens hours later, the sky above him still dark, the woods damp. He stretches achy bones and combs his sweaty hair under his beanie, figuring if he just walks now he’ll be fine.

He walks for miles, sees the sun starts to rise in the distance turning the blue-black sky to a dull blue-grey and keeps going. By the time he stops, it’s been more than twenty-four hours since he left. It starts to pour and Harry smiles darkly to himself, unsurprised by the weather. He jogs through the woods and his jaw drops slightly. It seems despite the rain, luck is on his side- he’s made it to a hilltop and not too far in the distance, he can see lights in windows through the heavy rainfall.

~

Another forty-some minutes pass before Harry stumbles through the door to a little pub, slipping on the hard floor. Heads turn his way, stares travel over his soaked figure, but he shoots one guy a look and the man turns his gaze elsewhere.

He plops down at the corner of the bar and swipes his hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. The bartender tentatively asks Harry if he’d like anything and Harry asks for a water, thanks the man once the cup is placed in front of him. 

And then the door to the bar opens quickly and slams shut just as fast. And the smell hits him. Harry’s eyes turn yellow and his nerves immediately spark. He tenses his shoulders, on edge, and looks around cautiously. He focuses his attention on the door, but the person who’d walked through it is already at the bar ordering a drink. 

The person stalks towards Harry and he tenses up further, prepares to attack if necessary, eyes glowing though he has them cast down so nobody sees.

“You smell like a wet dog,” the person says, now standing just beside Harry.

He looks up now, eyes dimly glowing, as he takes in the young man. His head is shaved and he has skin that looks terribly sweet when it’s glistening wet the way it is. His eyes are brown, but are alight with something else, something a little golden and Harry can’t help but smirk to himself.

“You’re one to talk,” Harry replies, watching the guy’s lips turn up in a smile.

Harry stays seated as is, eyes trained on this person who knows what he is because he’s one, too. The boy looks at him head on now and Harry’s breath catches in his throat. He’s beautiful, eyes brighter now, lips full and pink. He’s skinny and his soaked sweatshirt seems to drown him. When he lifts his drink to take a sip, Harry notices a tattoo on the back of his hand and longs to trace the lines with his finger. 

“I’m Zayn,” he finally introduces himself.

Harry nods once, ponders if it’s a good idea to share his name with anyone. It’s too late to worry, he realizes, Zayn’s already seen his face. 

“I’m Harry.”

“And what brings you around here, Harry?”

This, Harry figures, is something he should lie about. Just for now. But he can’t think of anything and Zayn notices his silence, how Harry’s eyes stay focused on the toes of his own shoes.

“What, it’s a secret?” Zayn prompts and Harry looks up.

“Yeah,” he says with a nod. 

Zayn nods back and finishes his drink, nudges Harry’s chair with his boot when he seems to get distracted again.

“You look like you need a place to stay,” Zayn suggests softly to Harry’s surprise.

Harry looks up and Zayn gulps at the lost puppy look he has etched onto his face. His face hardens though and he climbs off the chair, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

“S’that an offer?”

“Yeah, but you’ll have to tell me what you’re doing here eventually.”

Harry nods, doesn’t say a thing to avoid making promises, and follows Zayn out the door, adjusting his hat as Zayn fixes his hood. 

~

They walk silently through the rain, Harry following close behind Zayn. They walk through tight streets, passed pubs and homes and small shops till they get to the edge of town. They walk through a densely canopied forest, dark and damp, and Harry’s eyes emit a soft glow as he walks behind Zayn.

They arrive in front of a cabin, decently sized with little light coming from the windows, not a sound to hint at anyone being home. Zayn walks in first and Harry doesn’t move, not an inch. Zayn only notices when he’s about to shut the door, looks over his shoulder to see Harry in the same spot.

“You just gonna stand out here all night?”

Harry smells the pack immediately- not his own, but Zayn’s. He can’t just be a part of another pack, there’s no way it’s that easy, they won’t accept him anyway, just like his old pack. He’s lost in his own worried thoughts, but Zayn’s voice calling from the door brings him back.

“Coming… sorry.”

Harry steps cautiously into the house and watches Zayn kick off his boots, strip off his sweatshirt. Zayn watches Harry stand awkwardly at the doorway, watches him fidget nervously.

“Make yourself at home,” Zayn offers and Harry scoffs at him.

“This isn’t home,” Harry shoots back defensively and immediately regrets it. “I- I’m sorry, it’s just-“

“Rough day?”

Harry snickers sarcastically, taking his hat off and combing his fingers through his curls. “Rough life’s more like it.”

Zayn nods and leaves it at that. He can sense Harry’s nervousness, how furiously his heart pounds in his chest. He stalks towards Harry and for a moment they breathe each other’s air, eyes meeting for a fleeting second and they both feel that skip in their chests, those butterflies coming to life.

“They won’t be home for hours,” Zayn assures Harry.

Harry barely breathes a sigh of relief, but Zayn hears it, can see how Harry’s shoulders relax just a fraction. Harry nods, whispers a thank you that Zayn only nods in response to. 

“I’ll leave before they get here, I promise. If I could just- just sleep for a bit and maybe eat something, I’ll be out of here.”

Zayn notices Harry keeps his eyes downcast whenever he speaks to him. Zayn wishes he wouldn’t, wishes he could get another glimpse of those eyes.

“There’s no rush, Harry,” Zayn replies, gesturing for Harry to follow him with a nod of his head in the direction of the stairs.

Harry doesn’t argue, just nods once and walks with Zayn once more, this time passed closed doors till they arrive at what Harry assumes is Zayn’s bedroom, directly at the end of the hall. Zayn nudges the door open and tells Harry to drop his bag wherever.

“Would you like to freshen up?”

Harry looks up, but quickly back down at his shoes. “Please.”

~

Zayn shows him the way, leaves him with a towel and soap, and shampoo that “isn’t mine so don’t use too much. He’s very annoying about his bath stuff.”

Harry rushes his shower, is just thankful to be clean. He scrubs hard, like he’s scrubbing remnants of his past life away, ridding himself of the pain they caused if only a little. He shakes his hair out, naturally, and wraps his towel around his waist, finding Zayn in his bedroom again.

“Thank you,” he says gently, knocking to let him know he’s back.

“Any time.”

Zayn watches Harry dig through his bag, pull out clothes that look over-worn. He takes advantage of the moment to admire Harry, his slim but strong build, his broad shoulders and obnoxiously tattooed arm. Harry turns slightly and Zayn doesn’t look away, doesn’t care if he’s being obvious. 

He takes in Harry’s torso, what he can see of it at least, and he stares longingly at Harry’s lovehandles. His eyes travel up and fall on Harry’s neck, skin taut and white, bitable, Zayn thinks. He shakes his head, snaps himself out of the distraction. 

“S’with all the tattoos?” 

Harry shrugs, combs through his hair and keeps his back turned to Zayn. “Guess I thought they looked cool.”

Zayn nods and Harry turns around, his flesh bared to Zayn for a moment that passes too quickly. Zayn does notice a deeply colored bruise on Harry’s ribs before he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. He doesn’t ask about it though and pretends he doesn’t catch a glimpse of Harry’s bottom when he pulls on a pair of sweats and simultaneously drops his towel.

Zayn takes it as his queue to get comfortable as well and their eyes meet in the mirror as Zayn strips himself down to underwear, only a second longer than before.

Harry stares at Zayn, takes in the ink that decorates his own body. “What’s with all _your_ tattoos?”

Zayn smirks at Harry in the mirror, but Harry’s too busy shaking out his hair to notice. 

“Just thought some of ‘em looked cool.”

Harry smirks, but doesn’t disagree. He especially likes the tiger on Zayn’s right shoulder and finds himself all too quickly fantasizing about matching his lips to the print in the center of Zayn’s chest. The two of them stand just mere feet apart, thinking about the other’s tattoos, thinking about lips on skin, Zayn wondering where that horrible mark on Harry’s side came from all the while.

“Thank you for this,” Harry speaks up suddenly, pulling Zayn from his daydreams. 

Harry wants to say more, but he’s not sure what. Zayn watches patiently, Harry can feel his gaze burning through him, but refuses to look up. Zayn stretches his limbs out then and moves cautiously towards Harry.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Zayn wonders out loud and Harry’s breath catches in his throat.

Harry doesn’t tell Zayn that he’s scared. Harry doesn’t tell Zayn that if he looked any member of his pack in the eye when they didn’t want him to, they’d swing at him. Harry takes a breath and instead, asks Zayn a question as simple as his own.

“Do you want me to look at you?” Harry replies, all too aware of the fraction of space between them now.

Zayn nods, voice barely above a whisper when he replies, “Yes.”

Harry looks up slowly, lets his gaze travel from the floor beneath his and Zayn’s feet and over his chest till their eyes meet.

Zayn’s eyes widen the slightest bit when his eyes meet Harry’s. They’re a green too pure to be of this world, alight with a glow that Zayn’s only seen in others when they’re navigating the woods at night. They stare back at Zayn and he can see the sadness in Harry, the fear, the weight of secrets and a life Zayn knows nothing about.

Harry’s heart beats too fast through the encounter, Zayn can feel it, can feel Harry’s nerves. Zayn reaches for Harry, not knowing what he’s reaching for, what he really wants other than to assure Harry that it’s ok.

“Your heart is gonna burst,” Zayn blurts out, fingers grazing Harry’s wrist to feel the pulse there. 

Harry leans towards Zayn, towards the only affectionate touch he’s ever felt in his life. It’s so new and so terrifying, Harry can’t calm his heart. It’s too much too soon, but Harry can’t help himself when he lets his head dip towards Zayn’s to rest against his forehead.

Zayn’s fingers wrap around Harry’s wrist and neither of them moves for a moment. The silence is heavy, thick with Harry’s need to get away from his past, his need to get closer to Zayn, Zayn’s desperate desire to heal this broken boy who thinks his pain is a secret. 

Zayn moves first, gently nuzzles his forehead against Harry’s. Harry sighs softly, licks his lips and wishes for Zayn’s mouth, but doesn’t get it. Instead, Zayn guides Harry to his bed where the two of them lie down, side by side.

“You need sleep,” Zayn whispers into Harry’s neck, goosebumps flickering over his body.

“Your pack-“

“I’ll handle it.”

Something in Harry tells him to believe Zayn, to trust him, so he does. He falls asleep, unsafe still, though he feels more at ease than he has in so many moons. Zayn hears his breathing slow down, brushes his fingertips over Harry’s wrist and smiles at his slowed down pulse. He radiates body heat as they all do, but curls into a ball still. It makes Harry looks small and Zayn is just fixing the covers over Harry when he hears them outside.

~

“What are you thinking, Z? You can’t just bring a stray in like that!”

Zayn’s pack could smell Harry from miles away, but at first didn’t think that “Zayn could be that fucking stupid”. Their whooping and hollering in celebration of a good hunt cut off quickly when they realized the smell was coming from their own home. Zayn waited for them at the door and they ripped into him on sight, Caleb especially.

“Look, I’m not an idiot, I wouldn’t have let him in if I wasn’t sure he was harmless.”

“What about his pack, huh?” Louis shoots back.

“Yeah, what if he’s just a ploy? You don’t know for sure, Zayn.”

“It’s not like that-“

“You don’t know!” Caleb roars at him, but Zayn doesn’t back down.

“Let me finish!” he shouts back, stepping towards the alpha he’s always competed for the spot with. “I don’t think he has a pack. If he does, he didn’t… he probably couldn’t stay. I don’t know much yet, but I know he’s running away from someone or something, not trying to lead someone here.”

“But that’s what he’s doing either way, Z,” Louis pipes up, staring sadly at Zayn.

“Where is he?” Caleb asks, still defensive.

“He’s asleep.”

The pack is quiet for a second. Amira breaks the silence and Zayn could squeeze her right there. “Let’s just go inside and talk in the morning,” she suggests and Caleb softens immediately upon hearing her soothing voice. 

She snuggles up under his arm and looks up at him, cupping the side of his face and rubbing her thumb below Caleb’s eye.

“Zayn wouldn’t put us in danger, you know that.”

He nods, looks from her eyes to Zayn’s.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Caleb says to Zayn, walking passed him with Amira.

Zayn nods solemnly, watches everyone else file into the house. Everyone but Louis, of course. 

“What are you doing, Z?”

Zayn sighs. Louis knows him too well, could probably answer his own question to Zayn himself if he really wanted to. Zayn explains the instinct he felt upon meeting Harry, the inexplicable connection. He looks up at the moon as he does and Louis listens patiently.

“You like this kid, huh?”

Zayn just shrugs.

“I trust you, but you don’t know what he’s running from or why. We have to be careful, Z. It’s the pack over everything, you know that.”

“I know,” Zayn replies, frustrated and tired. “Look, I’m gonna go to bed, ok?”

Louis nods and Zayn walks back into the house with his best friend in tow. Louis gives Zayn a clap on the shoulder and lets his finger press into Zayn’s flesh for a moment.

“We’ll get everything sorted,” Louis whispers, then gently rubs his closed fist atop Zayn’s head. “No worries.”

Zayn smiles, watches Louis make his way into the kitchen for a snack probably and heads back into his room. Harry’s sound asleep still, huddled tightly under the covers. Zayn climbs in carefully as to not wake Harry and he stirs a bit, curls closer to the heat he feels radiating from the body beside him. Zayn smiles, lets himself sink into the bed next to Harry, and falls asleep hopeful for the next morning.

~

Harry rolls over in bed, checks the clock on Zayn’s nightstand. It reads 3:46. He basks in the blissfulness of a shared bed, of warm covers and a warm body next to him. He stretches his tired bones and takes a deep breath. And then he smells them.

The hair on the back of Harry’s neck prickles and his shoulders tense, stomach tying itself into a knot. He climbs carefully out of bed and moves about the room slowly, quietly gathering his things. He shoves it all in his bag and looks back at Zayn’s sleeping figure. He stalks towards the bed and leans down, careful not to touch Zayn.

Harry whispers just above Zayn’s ear. “Thank you.”

And then he leaves.

~

The howl that comes from the cabin is enough to send a chill down Harry’s spine. Zayn sounds distressed and sad, but Harry has to keep moving, has to pretend like he didn’t feel that sound in the marrow of his bones. 

Harry doesn’t get far. The leaves that crunch beneath his feet crunch beneath someone else’s after a while and Harry sighs, throwing his head back in frustration. 

“Look, Zayn, I couldn’t risk staying overnight,” Harry starts before he even looks over his shoulder.

“I talked to them already and we were gonna talk again in the morning.”

“What about?”

“You.”

“What about me? There’s nothing to talk about, I needed a place to get some rest for the night, you gave me that, and now I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, Zayn, I do.”

“Why? What are you running from?”

“How do you know I’m running from anything?” Harry challenges, eyes trained on Zayn as he moves closer to Harry.

Zayn shakes his head. “It’s more obvious than you think. You’re scared, Harry. Why would you be scared if you aren’t running from something?”

Harry’s at a loss for words. He swallows the thick lump that forms in his throat and steps towards Zayn, looking defiantly into his eyes. Harry stiffens his lip and closes the gap between himself and Zayn.

“You don’t know me,” Harry starts. “You think you know if I’m running or if I’m scared and you know nothing about me.”

“Don’t talk down to me, I’m just trying to help,” Zayn shoots back, voice harder, his stare challenging.

“I don’t need your help if your version of help is sympathy.”

“Oh, please, you’re trying to be tough and failing fucking miserably. I see right through you, Harry.”

Harry’s jaw drops and his eyebrows raise. His lips that had formed a straight line now curve into a sarcastic, dangerous smile.

“You see right through me? Alright then, Zayn, what do you see, huh? What am I running from? What am I scared of?” Harry practically shouts. “What do I want, Zayn, tell me.”

Zayn hesitates. Harry’s breath is mingling with his and his heart is racing furiously. He’s defensive and worked up and even within a pack, this much intensity, this much anger never leads to anything good. But Zayn’s never been too good at holding his tongue.

“You want me to yell at you? Or shove you away like you’re nothing?” Zayn replies, voice eerily calm. “Is that what your pack did to you?”

Harry tries to throw a punch at Zayn, but Zayn ducks his head too quickly. Harry can feel his fangs growing in, incisors coming to a sharp point and scraping the inside of his lip.

“That’s not what I’m gonna do, Harry,” Zayn speaks again. “But that’s what you’re running from, innit? An old pack, your pack. You want a new life.”

Harry’s teeth quickly return to normal and his breathing slows down. His eyes, glowing with anger as he watched Zayn, lose the light they carried moments ago.

“Maybe you want me, Harry,” Zayn says too confidently, voice a whisper on the wind that blows through the woods. 

They watch each other, Harry’s shoulders still a little tense, Zayn waiting, trying to prepare for whatever comes next. He doesn’t prepare for Harry to rush towards him and reach for him the way he does, a gentle squeeze of Zayn’s hip.

Zayn grabs for Harry’s neck, presses his thumbs against either side of Harry’s jaw. Harry emits the softest sound from his lips and it pushes Zayn over the edge, draws their lips together in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss. 

Harry falls into it, into Zayn’s tongue grazing his own, Zayn’s hands so warm against his neck, their noses bumping together. Harry’s hands squeeze Zayn’s hips harder and Zayn thumbs at Harry’s lip while their mouths lick away the rage from before, the defensiveness and the fear. All Harry’s scared of right now is Zayn not kissing him. 

Zayn pulls at Harry then, pulls him towards the cabin and a warm bed. Harry follows obediently, disappointed to have to break away from Zayn for the walk back. Zayn leads the way and Harry grows impatient, sighing with relief when the cabin comes into view. They move as quietly as possible to keep from waking any of the pack, but both Zayn and Harry know they probably heard everything that happened in the woods.

They forget about them anyway, forget about everything except each other. Before the two of them even make it to Zayn’s room, they’re kissing again, hands on necks and feet tripping over one another’s.

Zayn kicks the door shut and pushes Harry against it, kissing from his lips to his neck, biting down gently on the flesh there. Harry pants and waits impatiently for Zayn’s mouth to meet his again and when it does, he practically moans, he wants Zayn so badly. Zayn pulls at Harry’s sweatshirt and takes advantage of the exposed skin to kiss lower on Harry’s neck some more. 

Harry gets Zayn out of his shirt, lets his finger graze over Zayn’s chest and stomach, drags them over the waist of his jeans tauntingly.

Zayn can feel Harry’s dick through his jeans, palms at it to tease Harry. Harry bites at Zayn’s lip and unzips his jeans, lowering Zayn’s underwear till they hang loosely around his thighs. 

“Can I?” Harry says against Zayn’s mouth. “Please?”

Harry’s voice is weak, raspy, dripping with need for Zayn. Zayn nods and watches with his breath caught in his throat as Harry guides him to the bed and sinks down to his knees after Zayn’s taken a seat on the edge.

Harry wastes no time, practically salivates just looking at Zayn’s cock. Harry dabs his tongue at the tip and takes Zayn in his mouth, swirls his tongue around, pumps his hand slowly. Zayn watches how Harry’s cheeks hollow, admires how pink his lips are and how pretty they look wrapped around his dick. But Zayn wants to see him, really see him.

“H- hey, wait,” Zayn interrupts.

Harry stops, lets Zayn’s dick fall from his mouth, the thinnest sliver of spit keeping them connected. Zayn can’t resist the urge to wipe his thumb over Harry’s lips and chin and Harry can’t hide the blush that spreads over his cheeks.

“Look at me,” Zayn commands gently. “I want you to look at me.”

Harry nods once, obeys without question. When he licks alongside Zayn’s dick, he doesn’t look away. When Harry takes Zayn into his mouth and lets the tip hit the back of his throat, he lets Zayn see how it makes his eyes water. And Zayn just about loses it right there, can’t help the moan that rumbles through him, but he keeps it together because he needs to feel more.

Harry’s head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowed, mouth making wet, gentle noises as he sucks off Zayn. Zayn’s fingers curl into Harry’s hair, pulls gently and forces Harry to take him deeper and Harry does enthusiastically. Zayn hisses a curse, moans breathlessly while he watches Harry, their gazes still trained on the other’s.

Zayn can’t hold back anymore, absolutely loses it when Harry’s eyes roll back like Zayn’s dick in his mouth is the best feeling he’s ever experienced. So Zayn tells Harry in a burst of words that he’s close that he’s “gonna come, babe” and the sweet pet name makes Harry grind against the floor and moan even with Zayn still in his mouth.

Before Zayn can get ahold of himself, he’s spurting into Harry’s waiting mouth, filling it with the taste of himself. Harry laps up what spilled down the side of Zayn’s dick, licks his own terribly pink lips like he just finished his favorite fucking dessert.

Zayn takes a deep breath, tries and fails to collect himself. “Holy shit.”

Harry climbs up onto the bed, kisses from Zayn’s narrow hips over his chest and to his mouth, straddling him. Zayn’s lips part when Harry’s mouth finds his and there’s something frighteningly intimate about Harry kissing Zayn like this after Harry just swallowed Zayn’s cum like he needed to.

Zayn kisses back nonetheless, kisses Harry like his lungs hold the air Zayn needs to breathe, like Harry will disappear any second. And frankly he might, but Zayn won’t let him, not after this.

~

They’d stopped kissing eventually, only because they were starting to yawn into each other’s mouths and dawn was letting dull blue light through the shades. They cleaned themselves up, kissed a little more, and gone to bed. 

Harry’s awake now, pacing nervously, listening to the voices of Zayn’s pack. He’d stood by the door, too nervous to lie down, but he’s grown impatient. He climbs back into bed and shakes Zayn awake as gently as he can, nuzzling at his neck.

“I have to leave,” he whispers gruffly. “They’re awake.”

“What?”

“I have to leave, Zayn, I wanted to tell you this time.”

“You’re not leaving,” Zayn replies, suddenly awake, propping himself up in bed.

“Yes, I am.”

“I will talk to them.”

Zayn rolls out of bed too quickly, Harry staring nervously as he pulls on a pair of sweats and walks out. 

“Just wait here,” Zayn reassures him, letting the door close without another word.

~

“Jeez, mate, how many times do we have to ask you if you own a shirt till you get the picture, eh?” Louis teases, playfully squeezing the nape of Zayn’s neck.

Zayn barely gets to breathe before Caleb interrupts him. “He’s still here.”

It’s both a statement and a question to which Zayn just nods. 

Louis jumps to Zayn’s defense. “Hey, he’s just woken up-“

“I don’t care.”

“Look, I promise you he’s harmless. I brought him here because he clearly needed a place to stay. I think he’s a runaway, but-“

“And you don’t think his pack is gonna track him down?”

“Nothing’s gonna happen if they do,” Zayn argues.

“Are you completely off it, Zayn? You know how things go with territory and pack members. There are rules to follow and we could get hurt. You don’t know why he’s running or from who, you don’t know what you might be getting yourself into.”

“With all due respect,” Harry interrupts quietly, carefully, standing off to the side behind Zayn, “I’m running for a good reason. But I won’t stay if I’m not welcome to. I understand.”

The room goes silent. Harry hasn’t looked up once, but all eyes are on him. Amira looks scared for him and keeps her arms wrapped around Caleb’s, like she’s prepared to hold him back if need be. Louis’ hard to read as always, just stares at Harry. Their other pack mates, Jessica and Tyler, look from Harry to Caleb and then to Zayn.

“What kind of pack were you brought up in, huh? Did you really think that it would be ok to just sneak into another pack’s territory-“

“C’mon, Caleb,” Amira pleads softly.

“He didn’t sneak in,” Zayn shoots back. “I invited him. And I told you, I wouldn’t have done that if I thought anything bad would come of it.”

“You don’t know, Zayn!”

It goes silent again, but Harry breaks it now, his voice soft and raspy. “He’s right, Zayn.”

Zayn sounds exasperated when he replies, “What are you talking about, Harry?” 

“I would never hurt you or your pack, but… I don’t know what my old pack will do. I don’t know if they’ll try to find me, I don’t know what will happen if they do.”

“So you _are_ running from a pack,” Zayn whispers, remembering what he said to Harry in the woods last night.

“See?! He’s telling you himself, Zayn,” Caleb yells at him and then turns his attention to Harry. “I’m sorry that you have nowhere to go, but I can’t risk having anybody here hurt for a runaway.”

Those words hit Harry like a brick. He feels like the wind gets knocked out of him because that’s all he is, that’s all he ever was meant to be, he thinks. A runaway. A lone wolf. Packless. But he swallows it down and keeps his eyes trained on the floor.

“I understand. I’ll be out of here as soon as possible, I just have to get my things.”

Everyone in the room stares pitifully at the packless, and so far, nameless boy as he walks away. Zayn clenches his jaw and steps up to Caleb, eyes narrowed.

“I know you didn’t expect to have to compete to be this pack’s alpha when you took me in, but for fuck’s sake Caleb, he needs help.”

Louis lets out a low whistle and both Zayn and Caleb shoot him a look that gets him to raise his hands in surrender. Caleb sucks his teeth and doesn’t say a word so Zayn adds one more thing.

“And his name is Harry, he’s not just a runaway.”

“Zayn, wait,” Louis calls for him, following his friend who’s following Harry.

“He’s right, Zayn, I have to go.”

“I’m asking you to stay, Harry. I’ll talk to him privately, I’ll talk to everyone myself-“

“If my pack bothers to try and find me and tracks me here, I- I don’t want you to get hurt, Zayn.”

Zayn hates the way Harry says, “my pack” like whoever he’s running from still lays claim to him. He hates that Harry hasn’t woken up yet, hasn’t realized that what’s right in front of him might be what he’s been running towards.

“If you’re running away from them why do you call them your pack?”

Harry scoffs at Zayn, brushes passed him to grab the sweatshirt he’d left discarded on the floor last night.

“That’s not the point,” Zayn almost shouts at Harry. “Listen, just give me a second to talk to them.”

Harry freezes when Zayn touches his wrist, a gentle caress with the tips of his fingers turning into his hand wrapped securely around Harry’s.

“Ok?”

Harry is hesitant to look up, but Zayn’s patient. Louis watches the entire time. He knows before Zayn even leaves the room with him to tell him. Louis probably knew before Zayn did and just didn’t realize, didn’t see the way he is with Harry, the way he looks at him.

“He’s your mate, huh?”

Zayn’s heart beats a little faster for a moment. Louis would know before the words even left Zayn’s mouth. 

“I feel it, Lou. Wherever he came from, whoever he’s running from… he wasn’t meant to be a part of them. But he’s a part of me, Lou, I know it.”

Louis feels sad for his best friend, he always feels what Zayn’s feeling, they both do. They just clicked that way, always the wolves that romped together, a connection without the pull of the moon that mates feel, but a strong bond nonetheless.

“How ‘bout him, Z?”

“He’s scared, even if he feels it, he wouldn’t let himself.”

“Go talk to Caleb and Amira. I’ll talk to Harry.”  
Zayn shakes his head, reaches for Louis, but he ducks away. “What are you gonna say?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

~

Louis nudges Zayn’s bedroom door open with the toe of his boot and Harry looks up at the figure in the doorway and then back to the floor.

“Harry, right?”

Harry speaks, but his throat is dry, his voice is raspy and tired so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah.”

Louis nods. “I’m Louis.”

Harry nods, but doesn’t say a word. Louis can feel his tension, his anxiousness, so he speaks.

“I think you should stay.”

“But my pack-“

“I don’t know anything about your pack, I don’t know what or where you came from, but I’m sure staying here is better than running or going back to them, yeah?”

Harry ponders for a moment. Zayn is all Harry’s ever wanted. The safety and the warmth, the feeling of a puzzle piece finally sliding into its proper place is all Harry’s ever wanted. He can’t even count how many nights he’s spent begging the moon for more than what he had, for what he feels with Zayn.

“You’re right, but your alpha doesn’t want me here.”

“Zayn’s talking to him now and besides, s’not really up to him if Zayn wants you to stay as much as he does.”

Harry swallows nervously and fights the butterflies that fill his belly. He only nods again, trails behind Louis when he leaves the room and looks back at Harry like he expects him to follow.

They sit on the stairs when they hear that the conversation’s gotten a little intense. Caleb is practically growling at Zayn and Zayn’s refusing to back down. Louis puts a finger to his lips, mouths at Harry to stay where he is, and goes downstairs.

“Calm down, Zayn,” their pack mate, Tyler, pleads with him with a hand on Zayn’s shoulder.

“All I want is for you to give him a chance,” Zayn growls at Caleb.

“Why do you need that so bad, huh? Why put the pack at risk, Zayn?”

“Cos I think he might be my mate!” Zayn yells at him, lets the words slip out before he can even think about it. “I think he might be my mate, Caleb, I… I need him.”

Amira lets go of Caleb for the first time all morning to reach out to Zayn. With her hands on his shoulders, she smiles kindly at him and kisses him on the cheek.

“You’ve found one,” she says to Zayn, making her way back to her own mate. “We’ve been arguing about this since last night, guys. We’re not weak, if his pack comes here we’ll know how to handle it.”

Zayn smiles at Amira, silently thanks her for being Caleb’s voice of reason. 

“Caleb?” she prompts.

Caleb is silent for a moment. Zayn’s heart practically beats through his chest with impatience, but Louis’ steady hand on his shoulder eases his nerves a bit.

“If anything happens to anybody in this room right now,” Caleb finally says, “you’ll be lucky to be banned from this pack alive.”

Zayn can’t help the immense sigh of relief that he breathes. Harry walks into the room then and apologizes for eavesdropping, but everyone was “quite loud anyway”.

“Thank you,” Harry says to Caleb, bowing his head respectfully.

Caleb nods once to show his acceptance of Harry’s thanks, leaving the room shortly with Amira in tow. Everyone leaves but Louis, Zayn, and Harry. 

“Happy for you, brother,” Louis tells Zayn. “And you,” he directs his words at Harry now, who looks up, green eyes full of wonder. “Try not to run away again.”

Harry nods solemnly, takes the words at what they are- a warning from Louis, a gentle way of saying “Don’t you dare hurt my best friend”.

“And don’t do anything where I can see, alright, lads?” Louis shouts. “The walls are thinner than you think!”

Harry can’t help but to giggle at that. It’s the first time Zayn has seen Harry smile, really smile, and that’s when he’s quite sure of what he’s feeling. Louis leaves them to each other and Harry rests his forehead against Zayn’s, waits for Zayn’s fingers to twine with his and when they do, Harry kisses him. 

Harry kisses Zayn fearlessly, deeply, and the spark that ignites between them assures Harry that the home, the warmth, the mate he always wanted is standing right here in front of him, in sweatpants that fit a little too big, wearing a nose ring that feels cool against Harry’s warm skin when Zayn nudges his nose against Harry’s. 

It’s like Zayn can read Harry’s thoughts. “I’m here. You’re home.”

They kiss again, Harry’s tongue sweeps over Zayn’s and their bodies press closer together. Zayn pulls away and as soon as he does, Harry emits the softest, sweetest moan, like Zayn’s too far away now. 

“Now are you gonna tell me what you’re running from?”

Harry’s lips curve into a frown and his eyes cloud with painful memories. Fear of the pack will always lie dormant in his stomach, he’s not sure if he’ll ever feel completely at ease. He’s carrying all this weight on his shoulders and Zayn is offering to share it, to carry some of it himself. 

“I don’t want to burden you with this, Zayn, and it’s not easy, you know? For me to like… talk about.”

“I understand, but you can’t keep it bottled forever.”

Harry nods because he knows that, he knows what he should do. Zayn reaches for him again and Harry feels relieved just by Zayn’s touch. His hand goes to Harry’s hip and he strokes his fingers gently over Harry’s t-shirt.

“The bruise you have there,” Zayn speaks softly, “how’d you get it?”

Harry’s spine stiffens, but he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t remove Zayn’s hand from where it rests on his body. 

“You saw it the other night,” Harry replies and Zayn bites his lip, nods.

“Come,” Zayn guides Harry back upstairs. “Let’s get changed, we can go somewhere and talk, ok?”

“Yeah. Yeah, ok.”

~

Zayn takes Harry further into the woods until they hit the lake. The trees around it are sparse so sunlight pours in, reflects in shades of gold off the surface of the water. Harry’s in awe of it and Zayn smiles as he watches Harry dip his fingers in the water, walk around admiring their surroundings.

“Nobody comes here?” Harry wonders out loud and Zayn catches up to him.

“Nope. No wolves especially cos this is our territory, but even the town’s folk don’t bother. They hear us, they know we’re here,” Zayn explains, “but I think they pretend we aren’t… for their own security I guess.”

Harry sits down and pulls Zayn with him. “It’s beautiful, Zayn.”

Zayn looks at Harry and commits the image to memory- the sun brings out the lighter golden-brown in Harry’s hair, sets his jade green eyes on fire so much so that they’re almost yellow-green, and he’s squinting, smiling at how Zayn’s looking at him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I just- you’re beautiful, too, Harry.”

Harry giggles, shakes his head and looks down, a little embarrassed and a little flattered and maybe a little bit in love. He leans in to kiss Zayn, but he stops Harry gently.

“I still want to know,” Zayn reminds Harry.

Harry accepts that Zayn won’t give up on it. “You’re persistent,” Harry observes and Zayn smirks at him, but remains quiet, patiently waiting for Harry to speak.

“I couldn’t even tell you exactly what happened,” Harry begins, staring off at the lake, “but I think one of them uh, messed around with some girl from a pack that stayed not too far from us. And something happened with one of her pack mates coming to our territory and I was out hunting and didn’t pay attention… I guess I didn’t give them a warning about smelling an outsider.”

Zayn soaks in every word, watches how Harry’s entire body becomes tense again just with the memory of it.

“And when I got back, they just… attacked me. Pushed me to the ground and kicked me and I tried to fight back, but it’s just me against all of them, yeah?”

Harry lifts his shirt to show Zayn. Zayn doesn’t know how he missed it, but Harry’s covered in other marks. The biggest bruise is the one on his side, blue and green and purple painted over his ribs. There are a few smaller bruises on Harry’s back and Harry adds that there’s a pretty bad mark on his shoulder, slightly scratched from how he hit the floor that night.

“Your own pack,” Zayn says in disbelief. 

“This was nothing new,” Harry adds and Zayn’s eyes widen, his jaw dropping open a little. “It was a bad one, but it happened enough.”

“Harry-“

“That’s why I didn’t want to stay, Zayn, I’m so scared that they’re going to decide they need me back and track me down and-“

Zayn shushes Harry, pulls him close and knits their fingers together.

“Even if they do show up, I won’t let anything happen to you or anyone in the pack, alright?”

“You don’t get it, Zayn, I- it happened to me for years. They’re strong and they don’t care.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything and neither does Harry after that. Harry soaks up the comfort Zayn offers, holds his hand like if he lets go Zayn will disappear into thin air. The sun sets over the lake, paints the sky in colors that take Harry’s breath away. They sit in heavy, yet comfortable silence, rest on each other because right now that’s what Zayn is for Harry. He’s rest, he’s warmth, he’s Harry’s.

Stars become visible in the sky as it turns to a deep blue and Harry finally breaks the silence.

“Have you ever gone skinny dipping in here?”

“I have actually, after hunts sometimes. And Lou dared me once, like I wouldn’t do it,” Zayn smiles.

“Can we?” Harry replies, turning around to look at Zayn with hopeful eyes.

Zayn can really see how young Harry is now. He carries the weight of going through many moons unhappy on his shoulders and his eyes are etched with the same tiredness Harry feels deep in his bones, but he’s young. Youth radiates from him in this moment, shows through his excitement to swim naked in a lake under the moon, to swim with Zayn, touch him.

Harry strips down, kicks his jeans off from around his ankles and tosses his underwear at Zayn, giggling flirtatiously. Zayn helps Harry out of his shirt and Harry helps Zayn out of his, arms in the air and legs bumping together as they move along the shore, walking till they hit water. It’s cool out and the air chills them, but the water is colder, makes Harry’s skin prickle and then Zayn’s when he joins Harry.

Harry dunks himself underneath the surface and pops up seconds later, gasping and laughing brightly.

“S’freezing,” he sputters, swimming to Zayn and pulling him further out.

“Wait, Harry, give it a second.”

“Just dive in, Zayn, get it over with.”

Harry’s eyes sparkle under the light of the moon, look almost silvery. His lips shiver slightly, but stay turned up in a grin, and his hair hangs over his forehead dripping water along his face.

“C’mon,” Harry urges.

And Zayn ducks in himself, lets the water flow over him as he sinks down into the water. He stays where he stands when he comes back up and Harry tilts his head, like he’s asking Zayn a question. Why.

“Can’t swim,” Zayn explains shyly and Harry stands up next to him, wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist and keeps their bodies pressed together to share what little heat they can.

“S’ok, babe, we don’t have to swim.”

Zayn immediately takes a liking to being called ‘babe’, especially by Harry. Zayn’s gaze falls to Harry’s mouth. His lips are already tinged with blue from the cold and Zayn strokes his thumb over Harry’s lower lip, lets it catch there for a moment. Harry nips at Zayn’s finger, sucks it into his mouth and Zayn reminds Harry to look at him.

Zayn pulls Harry with him out of the lake, their mouths connected by the time the water level is at their hips. They use each other for warmth still, kiss under the moon and it brings out the animal in them. Harry can feel it, the hunger, the raw need for Zayn right now. He wants to feel him everywhere, under his fingers, on his lips, in his veins. 

“Need you,” Harry says against Zayn’s neck.

He sounds vulnerable, desperate. Zayn kisses Harry harder and starts to feel the moon’s pull himself. It’s nearly full, Zayn realizes when he looks up at the sky while Harry mouths at his neck. Zayn grabs at Harry, needs him closer, needs to not be able to tell Harry’s skin from his own.

They have to force themselves apart to run back to the cabin and Harry almost wishes the moon was full so they could turn and move faster. They arrive quickly enough and tone it down upon arriving. Louis’ on the steps having a smoke and he smirks at Zayn and Harry, shaking his head when he takes in their appearance. 

“Have a nice little date at the lake, lads?”

“Shut it, Lou,” Zayn says with narrowed eyes, but he smirks, too, can’t help it when it comes to Louis.

“You smell like wet dogs,” Louis observes, taking a pull and dipping his head all the way back to eye the two as they walk inside. “And like you’re in heat!”

~

Zayn and Harry burst into a fit of giggles at Louis’ words, laughing into each other’s mouths as they make their way to the bathroom. They shower together, wash off the remnants of cold lake water and dirt from the woods. 

Zayn carefully shampoos Harry’s hair, presses his dick against Harry’s bottom just to tease him. They take turns lathering each other up and Zayn’s sure to scrub gently over Harry’s bruises, to not apply too much pressure. Harry’s made nervous by the intimacy of Zayn washing him, seeing his bruises, and he keeps his head bowed under the water. 

Zayn kisses Harry’s shoulder then his neck once they’ve rinsed off and Harry leans into Zayn. They towel off and barely make it to Zayn’s bed, stumbling through the door, Zayn’s fingers knotting into Harry’s damp, dripping curls. 

The intensity between them is too much, makes them both impatient. Harry lets Zayn take control, push him onto the bed, and kiss him where he pleases.

“Need you,” Harry murmurs impatiently, the words caught in Zayn’s own mouth.

“What do you want, babe?”

Harry’s eyes meet Zayn’s and he breathes his answer. “To make you feel good.”

“Know what’d feel good?” Zayn prompts Harry, teasing him with a hand on his dick and his mouth at Harry’s nipple.

All Harry can manage is a hum. 

“Fucking you,” Zayn says when he slides up Harry’s body and plants a kiss on his lips. “S’all I want right now.”

“Yeah, ok, please,” Harry replies hurriedly.

It only makes Zayn want to take his time, how much Harry needs him. Harry guesses as much when Zayn takes his sweet time working his way down Harry’s body, kissing tattoos, letting his tongue dip out to taste Harry’s skin. When he gets to Harry’s crotch, he looks up at him and Harry’s head falls back. He curses under his breath and looks up when he hears Zayn click his tongue.

“Look at me.”

Harry manages a nod and watches Zayn mouth at his cock. He bites his lip and sighs happily when Zayn guides him to flip over, bringing him to all fours. Zayn digs in his drawer, thankful he has everything he needs. He slips a condom on and leans over Harry, speaking against his neck.

“Ready?”

Zayn lowers himself behind Harry again, standing straight beside the bed. He bends over and slips two fingers passed Harry’s rim, opens him up a bit. Harry hisses under Zayn’s touch and arches his body slightly. Harry needs more, needs Zayn to stop teasing him, but needs Zayn to do whatever the hell he wants if it pleases him. So he doesn’t say a word, just waits impatiently, cheeks flushed and cock hard against his stomach.

Zayn removes his fingers and slowly pushes into Harry. Harry winces pleasurably, fingers curling into the blankets and gripping tightly, practically tearing through the fabric when Zayn finds a rhythm. Harry wants Zayn closer, needs him, so he stops him and sits up. They don’t even need to speak, Zayn knows what Harry’s looking for, knows that Harry’s looking for him. 

Harry backs up onto Zayn, groaning when he feels Zayn inside him again. He lets his head fall against Zayn’s shoulder, hisses when he pounds harder, the sound of skin on skin driving Zayn wild. He notices Harry’s fist wrapped around his cock and he mouths at Harry’s shoulder, sucking on the flesh above Harry’s rapid pulse.

“You’re so good, Harry,” Zayn tells him, nipping at his earlobe, licking and sucking at the skin just below Harry’s ear. 

Harry hums in response, too overwhelmed. Zayn rubs his hand over Harry’s chest and stomach and pushes Harry’s hand away from his dick, replacing Harry’s hand with his own. Harry’s entire body belongs to Zayn and the very thought pushes Harry closer to the edge.

“Z-Zayn, please,” Harry begs, though he doesn’t know exactly for what. For Zayn to fuck him harder, maybe, to not let him go. 

Zayn’s hand moves along Harry’s dick, pumping as he pounds relentlessly into Harry. His lips find Harry’s neck again and he licks, sucks, bites down on Harry’s flesh, scrapes his teeth gently along his skin. Harry shudders, whimpers when Zayn’s fist tightens around his cock.

He barely gets the words out, that he’s gonna come, and Zayn helps him through it, coaxes Harry’s climax with a swift hand, his own peak getting closer and closer. Harry whines uncontrollably, moves his hips to thrust into Zayn’s fist, and Zayn licks at Harrys ear.

“Come for me, babe, c’mon. I’ve got you.”

Within seconds of Zayn’s words, Harry shoots strings of come over Zayn’s hand, against his own stomach. Zayn watches him come apart by his own doing, his own sweetly whispered words and working hand. Watching Harry break, his head against Zayn’s shoulder, his breathing ragged, and his stomach dotted with come rips Zayn’s climax through him. He comes with his dick still inside Harry and Harry lets him ride it out, keeps his arm draped over Zayn’s neck from his place in front of Zayn.

All Zayn can manage is, “fuck,” and Harry collapses in bed, too spent to move. Zayn climbs out of bed to grab a damp towel, cleans Harry up and then himself. He falls into place right beside Harry and as soon as Harry feels the weight of him, he moves to rest in between Zayn’s legs, his back to Zayn’s chest, their fingers slotting together almost instinctively.

“Look at the moon,” Harry says softly.

“It’ll be full tomorrow.”

“Mhm,” Harry hums. “I’m gonna run.”

Zayn dips his head to look at Harry and Harry bends his neck when he feels the movement. “Not away, love,” he smiles at Zayn, “just around. Maybe go to the lake or just through the woods.”

Zayn blinks slowly. “What’d you used to do?”

“Nothing,” Harry sighs and Zayn figures that’s just what he was allowed to do- nothing.

They fall silent and Zayn plays with Harry’s fingers. Harry sighs contently now, not sad the way he did before, because he’s naked and Zayn’s naked and they’re warm under the covers, sharing body heat and kisses here and there when they’re not just staring at the moon, wondering what took so long for it to bring them together.

“Zayn?”

“Hm?”

“I want to make love under the moon one day.”

Zayn smiles, nips at Harry’s neck and kisses him gently. “So we will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

They fall asleep shortly after their exchange. Harry rolls off Zayn’s lap, but Zayn pulls him back against him, curling up on his side behind Harry. Even in sleep they crave each other’s touch, feel like something’s missing if they can’t directly feel the other.

~

Harry runs the next night, just like he said. The pack spreads out a bit outside, waits to feel that burning in their bones. It’s always a bit painful, but after enough moons the change is nothing new. This is new for Harry though, doing it with other wolves. He’s nervous, excited, fidgeting with impatience, and then it happens. 

Zayn watches Harry’s spine curve, watches his bones break and reform themselves as Harry writhes on the ground.

“I’ve got you,” Zayn says against Harry’s neck. “You’re not doing it alone this time,” he reminds Harry, watching as he tries desperately to bite back his cries.

Harry nods, yelps when he feels a bone in his leg crunch. The last thing Zayn sees in his human form that night is Harry’s eyes. They’re glowing, holding the moon, almost silvery in their light, but Zayn can still make out the true yellow-green of Harry’s irises. Harry watches Zayn’s eyes too, just before he crumbles next to him. Zayn’s are the purest gold Harry’s ever seen, bright and predatory, holding the moon.

Harry shuts his eyes, winces in pain, and then he’s unconscious for a fleeting moment. When he wakes again, he howls up at the moon, and catches up to Zayn whose transformation was smoother, quicker. He runs beside Zayn, runs on his own for a while like he’s used to, but eagerly rejoins Zayn’s pack. But he doesn’t stop running. 

~

Harry wakes the next day by the lake. Everyone is completely naked, dirty and simultaneously exhausted and filled with energy. Even Zayn and Harry’s wolves must have snuggled together considering Harry woke up with Zayn’s head on his shoulder.

He shakes Zayn awake gently and Zayn groans tiredly. He observes Caleb is in the water with Amira, Louis and Tyler still asleep, and Jessica at the water’s opposite edge. It’s foreign to him, to see others after the full moon, to run with them underneath it. Harry wants to thank Zayn, but the words wouldn’t be enough even if he repeated them to Zayn every hour on the hour every day for as long as he knows him.

When Zayn finally wakes up and the pack makes their ways one by one back to the cabin, Harry thanks him with kisses peppered all over his body. Zayn laughs breathlessly when they shower together, asks Harry what on earth he’s doing, and Harry just keeps going. 

“Thank you,” he finally breathes, water dripping from his top lip over his lower one or into his mouth, “for last night.”

Zayn hadn’t realized just how new this would be for Harry, how much it would mean to him. Harry tells him about it, how it feels when it’s never happened before. 

“I want every full moon to be like that,” Harry confesses.

“I think they will be.”

Harry smiles at Zayn, lets his forehead brush against Zayn’s, cuddles into him. They climb out of the shower together and Zayn towels off Harry’s hair, laughs when he shakes it out like the animal inside him would.

The spurt of energy they’d felt earlier has died down a bit, leaves Harry wanting nothing more than to snuggle up with Zayn. Harry keeps kissing him, climbs into his lap and licks a stripe along his neck. It doesn’t go much farther than that, the two of them both worn with a soreness they feel in their bones. 

They sleep on and off, only leave bed to grab a bite just as the rest of the pack does for the day. It’s peaceful, something Harry never feels after a full moon and never thought he would.

~

Harry and Zayn do just as Harry wanted a few nights later- fuck under the moon, that is. They bring a big, soft blanket and really drag it out, kiss for hours while the sun sets and the moon rises and when it does they go at it like animals. 

The weeks pass and Harry’s quite quickly gotten accustomed to sharing a bed with Zayn, sharing entire living quarters. Little by little, he gets acquainted with Zayn’s pack.

He already likes Louis, is sure he’d like anyone who cares for Zayn as much as he does. Louis helps Zayn coax Harry out of his shell and Harry appreciates it more than he can say. The pack is so different from his own, it makes him nervous. They’re like a family, don’t behave so carelessly and without regard for one another. Everyone is treated like an equal, but everyone still respects their alpha.

Harry desperately wants Caleb’s approval, but he’s tough, seems to not really have let anyone in besides Amira, Harry thinks. How could anyone not let Amira in? Harry’s taken an immediate liking to her soothing presence and honey-sweet voice. Harry is shy around her still, but she’s patient, welcoming, warm. 

“I know Caleb’s still against me being here and everything,” Harry says to her one day while they sit by the fireplace, “but do you think there’s anything I can do to like… I dunno, get his approval?”

Amira stares back sadly, tosses her braids behind her shoulder and curls tighter into herself. “He’s a tough one, Harry.”

“I know.”

“But you’re still here, yeah?” she reminds him gently, leaning over to give his knee a comforting squeeze. “If he really wanted you gone, you would be already.”

Harry gets on with Jessica and Tyler as well, was relieved to find out that they never minded him staying, were just nervous about a newcomer. 

“We were all new wolves once,” Tyler explained, “but never new to a foreign pack.”

Harry understood, still does. He’s not sure if he’s ever known of a wolf that started in one pack and found another. But maybe all packs are like Zayn’s, maybe other packs are like families, tight-knit and trusting of each other. 

Zayn learns more about Harry’s past, never forces anything out of him. He knows it must be hard for Harry to reveal to anyone. He’s learned that Harry never wants to be seen as weak, but knows he is. Zayn hates to hear Harry say things like that, but he doesn’t argue, doesn’t interrupt, just lets Harry say all the things he’s never been able to.

“I never had a pack, Zayn,” he confesses one night, sitting in the cold outside, staring sadly up at the moon that rules him, guides him, hurts him without explanation. “I still don’t.”

“Yes, you do, Harry. This is your home now, we’re your pack.”

Harry shakes his head. “You’ve no idea how badly I want that to be true, Z, but it’s not. Caleb won’t accept me, I still have a pack that might be after me…”

Harry trails off and Zayn watches how his eyes hold the moon’s reflection so clearly. Zayn reaches for Harry’s hand and twines their fingers together. Harry squeezes Zayn’s hand with gentle force, snuggles into Zayn’s side and they both just gaze up at the stars, the moon.

Harry prays to it silently, prays for a clear path, for acceptance, a pack. Harry prays to the moon and asks that it let Zayn keep him and lets him keep Zayn.

~

Caleb often goes for runs through the woods in the morning to blow off steam or give himself an energy boost for the day. Harry takes note and silently creeps out of bed one morning, changes into shorts and a t-shirt and figures he might as well run barefoot since he doesn’t have proper shoes.

He leaves Zayn’s room as quietly as possible, turning back to press a whisper of a kiss on Zayn’s cheek. When he shuts the door, Caleb’s jogging down the steps. Harry catches up before he goes outside and Caleb stands awkwardly at the front door. 

“What are you doing up so early?”

“I uh… I wanted to know if I could join you. On your run, I mean.”

Caleb lifts his head, gazes down his nose at Harry. Harry stares back, almost nervous to, but both Zayn and Amira reminded him that it will show respect and strength to do so.

“If you can keep up,” Caleb challenges.

It’s a step. Harry grins. He follows Caleb outside and he stares down at Harry’s feet.

“No shoes?”

“I can keep up,” Harry promises, nodding firmly, digging his toes into the cold, stiff ground.

Caleb only nods and takes off, Harry just a shot behind him. They whip through the trees and Harry sort of likes the feeling of branches, crunching leaves, and cold dirt under his feet. It hurts, but it feels right, natural, like this is the only way he should ever run. He figures when he’s fully turned, his wolf’s paws hit the ground the same way. 

The speed of the two of them combined creates a wind, leaves and grass rustling behind them as they go. Caleb shoots a glance over his shoulder and Harry’s just at his flank and moving quickly. He smiles, picks up his speed a little bit, and Harry does just the same. He’s a little ways behind Caleb almost the whole time, shoots in front of him for a while.

Harry’s not sure how far they run, but when they arrive back the sun’s a little higher in the sky, and even in the cool air, he feels too warm. His feet are dirty, black with remnants of the ground he pounded against. Caleb rests his hands on his knees, panting lightly.

Harry stares at Caleb, not sure exactly what he’s waiting to hear or say himself. Nothing is said for a few moments and Harry’s about to bow his head and go inside when Caleb clears his throat.

“You’re fast,” he comments and Harry perks up a bit. “S’go again tomorrow maybe,” he adds, clearly unsure of his own words.

“Ok, yeah. Thanks, Caleb.”

Harry smiles to himself as he walks inside, Caleb staying outdoors to soak up a bit of fresh air for a minute.

“Clean up that mess your feet are gonna leave on the floor,” he reminds Harry, his tone commanding and stiff, not like it was a moment ago.

“Got it, boss.”

It’s a step.

~

Harry showers first, follows his own footsteps and cleans up the blackened trail of prints he left going through the house when he’s out. Zayn’s unsurprisingly still asleep when Harry goes back to his room and he smiles at Zayn’s figure bundled up underneath the blankets.

Harry crawls in next to Zayn, careful not to wake him. Harry lies with his eyes closed for a while, not asleep but resting peacefully. He nuzzles his nose against Zayn’s neck, presses his lips to the tattoo there, and Zayn moves in his sleep. Harry feels bad waking Zayn, but he wants him right now, wants his attention, his lips, just him.

“Zayn,” Harry whispers, his breath fanning over the back of Zayn’s neck, making his skin prickle.

“Mmph.”

That’s all Harry gets. He giggles and kisses the crook of Zayn’s neck, squeezes him a bit.

“You just gonna sleep all day?”

“Not with you here,” Zayn mumbles.

“C’mon, Zayn,” Harry whines, nuzzling against his neck.

Harry watches as Zayn shakes his head, rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and turns around, sighing gently.

“I’m up, I’m up.”

Zayn’s not too surprised by Harry seeking his attention, wanting it enough to wake him up. Harry’s shown Zayn that he likes attention, craves it really, loves to be touched by Zayn in even the slightest way, gets easily distracted by his own thoughts, and finds it hard to talk about himself, really open up. Harry learns his fair share as he grows closer to Zayn and Zayn to him. Zayn is a homebody and finds it hard to open up himself, and he’s most comfortable with Louis, loves having a partner in crime. 

“Lazy bones,” Harry comments, sitting up and climbing on top of Zayn.

Zayn rubs up Harry’s thighs and Harry leans down, his lips ghosting over Zayn’s. Zayn pulls Harry back when he starts to lift himself away, shakes his head at him.

“You think you’re gonna wake me up just for that?” Zayn asks, smirking dangerously, eyes practically sparkling. “Absolutely not.”

Zayn kisses him, moves his lips languidly against Harry’s. He pulls himself up a bit so he can reach Harry easier, draws his lips away from Harry’s mouth and kisses that spot just below Harry’s ear that makes him moan, beg for Zayn. 

Harry grinds against Zayn’s lap, lets his head roll back, exposes his neck for Zayn. This is all Harry wanted so he basks in it, thrives under Zayn’s touch. Zayn’s hand rests against Harry’s throat, his thumb just below Harry’s lip.

“So pink,” Zayn breathes and Harry smiles.

Zayn breathes him in, nuzzles his nose against Harry’s and Harry sighs, content, warm. Zayn’s touch soothes him, makes any worries for the future, for him, for himself disappear for a while. 

“Kiss me, Zayn,” Harry commands gently, his eyes on Zayn’s lips.

“Look at me,” Zayn replies and when Harry does, Zayn nods once, a subtle dip of his head. “Ok.”

And then he kisses Harry and Harry’s mouth parts upon the contact. Zayn twists his fingers into Harry’s hair, cards through his curls while their mouths meet, stealing the breath from one another’s lungs. Harry presses closer to Zayn, sighs against Zayn’s mouth when he gives Harry’s throat the slightest squeeze.

Harry whines when Zayn presses his lips to that spot again, nipping at Harry’s earlobe, licking a stripe along his neck. Zayn can feel Harry shudder and he works at Harry’s neck, parts his lips against Harry’s skin and drags his tongue and teeth over his flesh. 

Harry grits his teeth, hisses a breath inward when Zayn mouths at his neck. He wants more, but knows Zayn will drag it out, likes to see him squirm. Harry gets worked up easily, Zayn knows it, but Harry doesn’t rush him and he won’t be rushed. Harry mewls as Zayn touches him, kisses him, and they both know Zayn’s got Harry right where he wants him.

Harry can feel Zayn’s cock, thick and hard, underneath him. Zayn palms at Harry’s own dick and he shudders with the touch, hisses pleasurably again when he rubs his dick against Zayn’s palm. 

“Easy,” Zayn warns Harry and Harry curses.

“Please, Zayn,” Harry begs.

“Please what?” Zayn replies, stroking Harry’s dick firmly, slowly, pressing his lips gently along Harry’s jaw and neck.

Harry scoffs. “Fuck, Zayn, pl- please just fuck me,” he moans.

Zayn draws his mouth away from Harry’s neck to look at him head on. Harry’s head is tipped back, cheeks flushed, those flower-pink lips part and form a little circle.

Harry’s enough to convince Zayn to just give into him without a word. He takes it slow though, teases Harry a bit more before he pulls at his pants. Harry sighs when his dick springs free, swollen and hot. They adjust, move around a bit to get boxers from around ankles and reposition themselves properly.

Harry straddles Zayn again, thighs spread apart, dick pushed against his own stomach. He rubs his dick against Zayn’s and the friction causes them both to groan, soft noises that rumble through their chests and against each other’s mouths.

Zayn peels Harry’s shirt over his head, watches as Harry teases himself a bit, opens himself up for Zayn. Harry’s skin is already covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Zayn has the urge to lick him, but just then, Harry sinks down onto Zayn’s cock.

Harry rides Zayn and when he goes to fast, eagerly chasing the climax that’s almost embarrassingly close, Zayn slows him down.

“Easy,” he repeats, “easy, babe.”

Without a word, Harry does as he’s told, slows his rhythm down, watches Zayn as his hips thrust upwards and he fucks into Harry.

Zayn’s hand breezes over Harry’s cock and Harry whines. He needs more, needs to feel everything at once, and thankfully Zayn gives that to him. He massages Harry, pumps his hand up and down while Harry pushes himself on and off of Zayn’s cock. He fills Harry, hits him deep, and Harry is practically shaking.

Harry’s breathing becomes erratic when he gets closer, bouncing on Zayn’s dick, whining his name in wet moans. Zayn eggs him on, encourages Harry until he finally comes, messy and fast into Zayn’s fist, the liquid spilling over Zayn’s fingers and spotting both of their stomachs.

“Keep going,” Harry urges Zayn, realizing he hasn’t come himself.

“I’ll go in the shower-“

“No,” Harry replies. “Use me,” he says to Zayn and his face when he says it, the curl of his lips, the way there’s a bit of a whine behind the rasp, convinces Zayn in a heartbeat. 

He grips Harry’s hips, fucks into him from below. Harry winces, cries out for Zayn. It hurts in the best way possible, blurs Harry’s vision, but he focuses on Zayn’s mouth, lips parted and his tongue dipping out. Harry’s head lolls back, body arched away from Zayn’s and he watches a bead of sweat roll down Harry’s chest and stomach. Zayn wants to taste it, wants to taste Harry, so he pulls him forward and their lips catch for a moment as Harry’s body bounces in Zayn’s lap.

Harry’s fingers claw into Zayn’s sheets Zayn feels himself getting closer. When he finally comes, he moans, fingers imprinting onto Harry’s flesh. It’s messy, neither of them thought to use a condom, silently agreed they wouldn’t. Zayn helps Harry clean up when they’re done and joins Harry for his second shower that morning. They can’t keep their hands off each other, even in the shower. Zayn gets hard again and Harry sucks him off, swallows like he’s been waiting for it, craving it, his hand working himself through it.

Harry complains about his sore knees when they leave the shower and Zayn bites at Harry’s neck. 

“You’d do it again for me though, yeah?”

Harry rolls his eyes, but presses against Zayn. “You know me too well.”

Zayn laughs into Harry’s neck and Harry thinks to himself that he’d give anything to hear that laugh every day. The sound alone feels like home. Zayn nuzzles against Harry’s neck, separating only to find clothes.

“Why were you up so early today anyway?” Zayn wonders aloud and Harry slips his shirt over his head.

“Went for a run,” he replies with a sly, confident smile that dimples his cheeks.

“Oh, really? Caleb always runs in the morning, too. Did you pass-“ Zayn pauses and looks up at Harry. “You went with him.”

“I asked and it went ok. It felt so good, Zayn. I think he’s sort of accepting me.”

“’Ok’?! Harry, that’s huge,” Zayn replies excitedly, kissing Harry warmly.

Harry immediately loses himself in it, frowning when Zayn pulls away. Harry pulls Zayn back though, holds him gently by his neck.

“I just want to be able to stay with you.”

“That’s it,” Zayn agrees.

They kiss again, keep their clothes on this time and fall into bed together. They don’t leave their room till late in the afternoon and Louis taunts them endlessly. Even Caleb cracks a smile at something he says about “Harry sounding like a wild fookin’ animal” to which Zayn shoves at him.

Jessica and Amira huddle on the couch giggling at Louis, pulling Harry in and oohing gently when they see how genuinely embarrassed he is. 

Tyler shakes his head, scolds Louis for being obscene. “It’s not me!” Louis argues. “You’d say something, too, if you heard what I’ve heard,” he says, shooting a look at Harry.

Harry groans, but can’t help his laughter either when Louis directs his assault at Tyler. “You just wish it was you, huh?”

Harry looks around at these faces that have become so familiar, soaks in the warmth that radiates through the cabin. Everyone is laughing, shouting over each other, rough-housing like packs do. Harry can’t lose this. He won’t lose this.  
~

Harry gets into a bit of a rhythm. He occasionally looks for Caleb in the mornings to join him for a run and is relieved to find that Caleb never turns him away. He makes runs into town here and there, tagging along with whoever goes. He keeps his few possessions in his bag still, always wary of what could happen though Zayn tells him to stop worrying.

“You’re home now,” Zayn often tells Harry.

Harry wants to believe him, but there’s a gut feeling he can’t rid himself of that tells him otherwise though he can’t pinpoint exactly what that feeling is. The feeling always plagues him, but Zayn helps keep it at bay.

Changing with the pack underneath the full moon almost forces Harry to believe that this is his pack now, that he’s really here for good. That instinct nags at him anyway. On one full moon, when Harry changes he runs from it, runs with Zayn, with the pack. The fur along his back spikes up when Caleb howls, calling them all to the lake, the sky above them a gradient of soft and dark blues.

Harry howls back with Zayn. The wild sounds form a perfect harmony, the kind Harry’s been looking for and is so happy to finally have found.

~

“You look like you laid out and let children use you as a coloring book.”

Harry chuckles at Zayn’s comment, looks over his shoulder at Zayn who’s sitting cross legged in bed. Harry’s stringing up some lights he found at a shop in town that Zayn argued would look cheesy.

“That’s the point,” Harry had argued back and Zayn gave into him like he usually does.

Harry finishes with the strand of lights and bounds over to Zayn bouncing into bed next to him and immediately snuggling against his side.

“I told you that first night, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t say much,” Zayn points out and Harry nods.

“Well I was serious about thinking they looked cool,” Harry replies and Zayn smiles, tracing the rose on Harry’s arm, skimming over the ship as he trails up and down.

“A lot of the time I would go to this shop just to occupy myself,” Harry continues and Zayn nods, watching Harry move and sink in between Zayn’s thighs, resting against his chest. “Some of them were planned, others not. What I put on my skin, where… it was up to me. The pain was up to me.”

Zayn’s head droops a bit and he rests his chin on Harry’s shoulder. “Which one hurt the most?” Zayn asks gently.

“The butterfly.”

Zayn reaches around Harry from behind him and presses his hand to the ink. Zayn traces it, feels Harry’s chest rise and fall. 

Harry grabs Zayn’s hand and slots their fingers together. They sit in silence, huddled together in the warm light of Zayn’s room, their room. Harry always feels tired when he talks about himself or his life and Zayn can feel it, the weariness that Harry carries, so when Harry uses Zayn to distract himself, Zayn lets him.

“Tell me about your tattoos.”

“I thought they looked cool, too.”

“C’mon,” Harry drawls, smirking when he looks back at Zayn.

“Alright, alright. I like art, I guess, always have and I just got to a point where I wanted to use myself as a canvas.”

Harry nods, his free hand stroking around the mandala on Zayn’s wrist. “Corny, innit?” Zayn adds, and Harry smiles warmly, holds Zayn’s hand a little tighter.

“Not at all.”

Harry tips his head back, doesn’t even have to pucker his lips for Zayn to kiss him. They linger for a moment, tongues dipping out slowly, mouths moving lazily against one another’s. They break apart regretfully and Harry rests against Zayn. Louis knocks on the door just as Zayn starts to doze off and he clicks his tongue.

“Oy, lovebirds.”

“What d’ya want, Lou?”

“Sorry, sleepyhead, did I wake ya?” Louis teases Zayn, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m running into town to get some snacks, just wanted to see if you want anything.”

“Oh, I’m alright, thanks though. You, Harry?”

“Mm-mm,” Harry shakes his head. “Actually,” he sits up, climbing out of bed to dig through his pants pocket, “a pack of strawberry gum. I’m all out.”

“Gotcha, mate.”

Harry falls back into place in Zayn’s arms and Zayn hooks his forefinger on Harry’s chin, guiding him to turn his head towards Zayn.

“Love when you taste like strawberry gum,” Zayn says, voice just above a whisper, enough so that Louis can hear.

“Fuck off,” Louis tells Zayn and he bursts into laughter, giggling against Harry’s mouth and into his neck.

Harry flashes a grin at Louis, his dimple dug deep into his cheek, and Louis narrows his eyes at the two of them, but doesn’t say a word.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so quiet, mate,” Zayn observes.

“Shut it,” Louis shoots back.

Zayn’s eyes sparkle mischievously, Harry loves it when they do. It brings out the gold in them, the pure color of honey. Harry gets lost in them and Louis watches them together for a moment before he turns around.

“Look at ‘im! He looks like a lost puppy, Z, what have you done to him?”

Harry laughs brightly. “What have you done to me, love, should we go through the list?”

“You’re right arseholes, you know that?” Louis says, unable to hide his smile. 

“Be safe, Lou!” Zayn calls and he and Harry break into laughter again.

The sound fades as their mouths get closer and finally meet again. Zayn licks into Harry’s mouth and Harry’s lips part welcomingly. They use each other for air, Harry slides his tongue over Zayn’s, drags it over his lip. 

Zayn pulls away and hums, bites at Harry’s lower lip. “I was being serious before by the way.”

Harry cocks his head to one side. 

“I really love it when you taste like strawberry.”

Harry’s cheek dimples and he bites his lip, turning over so he and Zayn are facing one another. They kiss like young lovers do, hungry and warm and hazy. The way Zayn kisses Harry makes him dizzy, brings out the animal in him. Harry keeps his thighs parted on either side of Zayn’s, drapes his arms over Zayn’s shoulders, and Zayn cradles Harry’s neck, thumbs lined up with Harry’s jawline.

Harry pulls away to Zayn’s surprise and for once, Zayn’s the one pouting. Harry giggles and thumbs at Zayn’s plump, puffed out lower lip. 

“I want to tell you something.”

Zayn tips his head to one side, rubbing his hand over his buzzcut. “What’s up, babe?”

“I um… I didn’t think mates were a real thing, you know? I’d always hoped they were deep down, but I never thought I’d find mine or that I even had one.”

Zayn stares at Harry hopefully. He’s known it himself from the start, he’s sure of it, why else would he have found Harry?

“I found you though, Zayn. Well you found me and-“

Zayn kisses him again, this one sweeter than before, not as desperate, heavy, tinged with the need for more. This is more like, _hush, you’re babbling_.

“I was waiting for you to realize.”

“I think I knew, but I was scared.”

“I guessed that, too,” Zayn says with a gentle smile that Harry returns. 

Zayn punctuates his sentiment with another kiss and Harry wastes no time intensifying it, pushing his hips against Zayn’s and forcing Zayn’s head to tilt back a little. 

Zayn sort of likes it when Harry takes control, absolutely doesn’t mind when Harry traps his hands against the headboard and mouths at his neck and chest. Harry knows Zayn is taken by surprise, but likes it. Harry likes switching roles a bit, likes how Zayn bites his lip and tenses up when he tries to restrain himself, fingers twitching under Harry’s grip.

They tease, play with each other, taste skin and lips. Their kisses grow lazier, softer, till they agree between tired laughter that they should go to sleep. Even then, they kiss a little more, too caught up in each other to let go even just for the night.

~

Harry hears Louis poke his head in and mutter something about “lovebirds” before quietly shutting the door, not without tossing Harry’s gum onto the nightstand and missing.

He falls asleep again quickly and Zayn remains undisturbed. Something wakes Harry up again though and he jumps up, startled, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He checks on Zayn, relieved to see he’s still sound asleep. 

And then it hits him.

~

When Zayn walked into the pub that day in the rain, Harry immediately became nervous, but there was no sense of impending doom, no primal fear. Now, sitting up in Zayn’s bed, he’s paralyzed with it.

They’re close. He smells them. His skin prickles with goosebumps and he finally reigns himself in, tells himself over and over to move and when he does, he moves slowly to avoid waking Zayn. The smell is strong, like one of them is in the room with him. Harry turns to the window and swallows the lump in his throat. He opens the blinds and feels his heart slide into his stomach.

“Open,” Harry’s alpha’s right hand man mouths from the other side of the glass.

Harry slides the window open cautiously, trying to blink back the tears in his eyes.

“Who’ve we got ‘ere?” 

“Please,” Harry starts, “please leave him alone.”

“I’m just asking who he is, s’all.”

“He’s nobody. He’s just another wolf.”

The rest of Harry’s pack comes into view and he curses under his breath. He knew they were here, but seeing them now, surrounding the cabin, just yards away from the people he’s grown to care so much for, the man he loves, makes him sick to his stomach.

Harry slides the window closed and as quickly and quietly as possible, grabs his things and leaves. He doesn’t risk kissing Zayn, doesn’t want anyone to get even the slightest glimpse of anything that will hint at Zayn’s importance to him.

He stalks silently through the cabin and out the front door. He’s surprised nobody’s woken up from the smell of a foreign pack alone, but is thankful, too, relieved. Harry walks out the front door and they’re all standing there, hooded figures at the edge of the woods.

“I will go with you,” Harry tells them. “I won’t put up a fight, I won’t do anything, but please don’t hurt anyone in that house.”

Harry’s alpha steps towards him and it’s like Harry never worked on dropping the habit of looking down when he speaks or is spoken to. His eyes immediately find the ground and he can practically hear the horrid smile in his alpha’s voice.

“You caught me on a good night, Harry. Surprising, considering how you left us.”

Harry swallows, apology on the tip of his tongue, but he gets interrupted. “I won’t hurt a single one of them, but that means you might not see another full moon.”

Harry almost looks up, but doesn’t make it. All he feels is himself hitting the ground and a blunt force connecting with his jaw. And then everything is dark.

~

It takes all of two days for the pack to get back to their territory. Harry feels himself wake up once or twice, but is quickly snuffed out again. When he wakes up on the floor of his old place, his head is pounding. He checks himself, can feel blood crusted into his hair. 

Miles away, somewhere in the woods, Zayn’s screaming at Caleb.

“I have to find him! I can’t just let them keep him wherever they are, Caleb, if they’re as bad as he says who knows what they’ll do to him?”

Nobody knows what to say, but there’s a weight in the room, in the air. Zayn’s anguish is palpable, his pain bared in his eyes.

“Caleb, please,” Zayn begs, “I can go alone.”

This same argument has plagued the cabin for two days. Zayn had woken up in the middle of the night, reaching for Harry and not finding anything. When he’d lifted his head and looked through tired, squinted eyes, he saw no one, nothing. He could smell it though, the unfamiliar pack. 

Zayn jumped out of bed only to find Harry’s bag gone, nothing in the room to let Zayn know he was ever even there except for a closed pack of gum on the floor next to the nightstand.

He tore through the house and started to run, but Louis caught up to him soon after, forced him to come back. Standing in the kitchen next to his best friend, Louis can’t bear to see Zayn like this. 

“There has to be something we can do, Caleb,” Louis comments, voice as soft as it’s ever been.

“That pack as here, Zayn. If they’re as bad as you say Harry said, what do you think they’ll do to us?”

“We aren’t one person, Caleb, for fuck’s sake!”

“Watch it, Zayn,” Caleb commands, puffing his chest a bit, looking down at Zayn.

“I need to find him. I’m not doing it to put anyone in harm’s way, I just- I need to get him back. He’s my mate, Caleb. I need him back.”

Zayn’s voice cracks a bit and the room falls silent again, not a single breath making enough noise to cover up even the drop of a pin. 

Louis claps Zayn’s shoulder, gives him a squeeze, reminds Zayn that he’s there. They could probably both name every time the other has cried. Zayn keeps his lip stiff, eyes trained on Caleb.

“I have to go alone if you won’t help me.”

Louis’ fingers dig into Zayn’s shoulder and Zayn watches with weary, tired eyes, palms flat against the counter in front of him. Caleb sighs deeply, runs a hand through his hair.

“If anyone gets hurt in this, it’s your head. You’re out.”

~

Zayn could have hugged his alpha, but he restrained himself. Zayn explained to everyone that he thinks they spread out on purpose, created different trails to make it harder to track. Between the six of them, they can cover almost all of the tracks, but that would mean splitting up. Zayn couldn’t quite catch Harry’s scent so he runs with Louis for miles till he feels like he catches something, the rest of the pack awaiting their signal. Zayn howls up at the moon, a bit more than a quarter, far from home. Neither he nor Louis hear a thing.

“I’ve got your scent,” Louis says, protruding fangs giving him the same light lisp they all get. “I’ll go back. Just wait here, yeah?”

Zayn pants, nods his agreement. Louis runs about halfway back and howls up himself. He hears it now, the call from Caleb. Louis howls again, this one for Zayn. Zayn’s ears perk up, twitch a bit, and his spine tingles. Zayn takes off, Harry’s scent filling his senses, pushing him through the woods.

~

Harry fills his head with thoughts of Zayn. He thinks about Zayn’s lips, his voice, how he sings in the shower just like he does. He’s thinking about how soft Zayn’s hands are despite his slightly calloused palms when his alpha’s boot connects with his ribs again. 

Harry grinds his teeth, refuses to make a sound even when the pain shoots through him. The next full moon is just days away and Harry’s starting to believe he might not even make it till then. He feels it again, the steel toed boot cracking into his side. Harry can barely make out what’s being said to him, gathers that he’s not to move an inch. It’s not like there’s much of a choice. Every inch of Harry’s body aches and he’s locked in to the same basement he’s been confined to for full moon after full moon.

The sounds of footsteps and cackling fade and Harry lets himself drift off to sleep, if only to not feel the pain for a little while.

~

Zayn runs. His feet pound into the ground, Louis close behind him, the rest of the pack catching up. They run for almost three days, Zayn ignoring the rumbling in his stomach and only stopping to hunt and eat when Louis forces him.

As Harry’s pack’s scent becomes stronger, it becomes fouler, making Zayn snarl as he runs. Their territory reeks of them unsurprisingly, but the very thought of them makes Zayn sick to his stomach. The smell of them is strong in the air, but they’re not around. Zayn stops, paces as his features return to normal, his teeth shrinking back to normal, ears and eyes reclaiming their human appearance.

He waits for the rest of his pack to join him. Louis shows up just moments later and he smells Caleb and the rest mere miles away. Louis can sense Zayn’s fear, worry, and he throws his arm over Zayn’s shoulder.

“We’re close, mate, we’ll get him.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a while, just lets himself be warmed by Louis’ touch. Louis doesn’t force anything, just lets Zayn breathe. The two of them watch the sun sink, the land around them darkening. 

“What if we’re too late,” Zayn wonders out loud. 

“We’re not,” he hears from behind himself and Louis. 

They turn around and Caleb’s there, wiping sweat and dirt from his forehead, the others close behind. 

“You’d know. You’d feel it,” Caleb adds. 

“Must be a mate thing,” Louis comments and Zayn nods.

“They’re not here, are they?” Amira asks, immediately taking her place at Caleb’s side.

Zayn shakes his head. His nerves are overcoming him, they all know it, they can tell from his silence. Louis takes charge with Caleb, leads the way in search of wherever Harry’s being kept.

They wander the woods till Harry’s own scent isn’t so covered by the heavy scent of his pack. They walk and walk till they reach the moors and spot multiple small houses.

“Some pack,” Louis remarks angrily. “They don’t even live together.”

“Not like we do,” Amira adds.

The six of them make their way down, Zayn flanking Caleb. Zayn follows Harry’s scent, heart racing when it leads him to one house in particular. Harry’s scent grows stronger and Zayn loses himself, doesn’t realize he’s moving without care. A man moves into his path towards the house and Zayn can sense the pack changing behind him, fangs bared, ears spiked.

“You thought nobody would smell you?” he says. “You must be looking for our favorite little wolf,” the guy adds and Zayn’s spine stiffens. 

“Where is he?” Zayn growls.

“What if I told you he was buried right where I’m standing? That-“

Zayn’s fist connects with his face, once before he hits the ground and again when Zayn holds him down and he’s about to tear into the guy’s throat, but Louis stops him. Caleb grabs his other side and Zayn swings at the air in front of him, fights against his own pack mates.

“Zayn!” Caleb half yells, half growls at Zayn, yanking at his arm.

Zayn relaxes, gathers himself, bowing his head in apology when Caleb lets him go. Louis snickers and Caleb shoots him a look, but it doesn’t stop him. Louis looks down at the man on the ground, kicks him gently to see if he comes to.

“Knocked him out cold.”

Zayn ignores Louis and tries to get into the house. The door is locked and he can’t kick it open so he kicks at the closest window. It takes a few swings, but the glass cracks a bit and finally shatters. 

In the basement, Harry wakes up, startled by the sound, by the all too familiar scent of Zayn and his pack flooding his senses. Harry tries to lift himself off the ground and can’t help but to cry out in pain when he bends a certain way, his ribs shifting uncomfortably, like the bones aren’t where they should be.

Zayn hears Harry and doesn’t bother to clear out the loose shards of glass, cutting his hand open when he pushes himself through the window. 

“Go with him,” Caleb orders Louis. “Amira, Jess, just- just keep look out, ‘right? And Tyler, check the other houses.”

Everyone does as their told while Zayn delves into the house, tracking Harry behind a locked door. He pulls at the chains and kicks the chair that keeps the knob jammed to one side, launching himself down the stairs and crumbling to his knees when he finds Harry on the floor, trying to prop himself up.

“Zayn,” he rasps through dry, swollen lips. “You’re here.”

Zayn flashes a teary-eyed smile at Harry, reaches out to hold his hand. “I’m here.” Zayn takes Harry in, the blood and sweat that’s pasted his hair down, his busted lip and blackened eye. 

“You shouldn’t have come,” Harry tells Zayn, struggling to sit up. "And you're bleeding," Harry observes, shaking his head sadly.

“I couldn’t leave you.”

“You don’t know what they’ll do, Zayn, please. Please go, I don’t know when they’re coming back, I can’t let you get hurt-“

Harry cuts off suddenly. Talking takes too much out of him, Zayn can tell. Harry’s weak, exhausted, and in pain. Zayn’s never felt somebody else’s pain before, has never been so angered by it, and Harry’s never felt another’s emotions the way he feels Zayn’s rage.

“Someone’s here,” Harry says suddenly. “Zayn,” Harry pleads, fear in his eyes when he looks at Zayn.

“Wait here.”

“What are you gonna do, Z?” Louis asks, watching Zayn brush passed him. 

Louis follows him up the steps. Zayn peers outside, can smell them coming closer. One’s already out front arguing with Tyler, but Tyler knocks him out just as Zayn did before. Zayn and Louis join the rest of their pack outside, listening to the sounds of pattering feet moving towards them. 

Harry’s alpha arrives at the head of the pack. Caleb moves in front of Zayn, but Zayn stands at his side, barely behind him. The rest of the pack stands behind Caleb and Zayn, watching, waiting. Zayn will admit Harry’s pack is intimidating. They’re a little older, stronger, Zayn can tell. 

“Welcome to our home,” the alpha’s voice booms. “You aren’t welcome actually, but that didn’t stop you.”

“We aren’t here to fight,” Caleb speaks, his own voice matching the alpha opposite him. 

“Then why _are_ you here?”

Caleb looks at Zayn then and Zayn takes a step forward. “We just want Harry back.”

The alpha laughs, shakes his head and stalks towards Zayn. Caleb moves slightly to protect Zayn, all of them on edge, unsure of what could happen next.

“Relax,” the alpha says, “I just want to properly introduce myself,” he adds, reaching his hand out to Caleb. “I’m Sam. And if I remember correctly, you took Harry from me.”

“We didn’t take anyone,” Caleb narrows his eyes at Sam.

“Harry ran from you for a reason,” Zayn spits and Caleb turns on him.

“Watch it.”

“You should listen to your alpha,” Sam says, voice like a snake. 

“You should know your place,” Caleb replies, squaring up to Sam.

Everyone’s too busy to notice Harry. He forced himself up the steps, wincing in pain the whole time, gritting his teeth to keep the noise in his throat. He pushes through the front door, arm wrapped tightly around himself to try to keep some of the pain in his body at bay.

“Look who we have here,” Sam calls, an evil smile curving his lips. 

Everyone turns their attention to Harry’s bloodied figure in front of the house, limping towards the packs. Zayn rushes towards him and Sam clicks his tongue, stepping in between them.

“What makes you think it’ll be that easy?”

“Why do you want to keep him around so bad anyway? Look at what you’ve done to him!”

“Zayn-“

“You shut it,” Sam growls at Harry. “Zayn, is it? Why do you want this filth back, anyway? Why should I let him go?”

“Why do you want to keep him?” Caleb repeats. “You need a wolf to pick on? You’ve got a whole pack. What good is it hurting one of your own?”

“It’s none of your business what I do with any of my wolves.”

“What do I have to do to get him back?”

Sam stares blankly at Zayn. Caleb watches intently as does Harry. 

“Sam, please,” Harry begs and Sam growls before he turns and punches Harry in the mouth, splitting his already wounded lip. 

Zayn falls to Harry’s side, helps him sit up a little. Caleb rushes at Sam, grabs him by the throat and doesn’t stop moving till Sam is smashed against the outer wall of the house.

“You’ll kill him if we leave him here!” Caleb shouts. “Why would you hurt another wolf? What’s he done?”

“You’re so concerned with hurting others like us, but what are you doing right now?” Sam chokes, coughing through his words. 

Behind them, Zayn helps Harry stand up again. Zayn goes to grab Harry’s face, but Harry dips from him gently and shakes his head as subtly as he can. Harry looks into Zayn’s eyes, makes sure Zayn sees when he shoots a glance at the pack watching.

Don’t let them see. Don’t give them an excuse to hurt either of us.

Zayn gets it. He nods once and Harry returns it. Harry turns his attention to Sam and Caleb, wishes he could help, could just end this. Harry doesn’t want to see anyone hurt, he just wants to be with Zayn, wants to feel like he’s home again.

“Just let him go,” Caleb growls. “That’s all we want.”

“You want him so bad? Fight for him.”

Sam reaches up and hits Caleb, gets him square in his jaw. Caleb spits blood onto Sam’s shoes and Zayn gulps. Caleb said if anyone gets hurt, he’s out and Zayn assumes Caleb included himself in that statement. He’s out. Part of him wants to run, take Harry and start new. Another part of him know he couldn’t, wants to fight for Harry, for his pack, for himself. 

“We don’t need to fight,” Zayn shouts, grabbing Caleb’s attention after he’s just kneed Sam in the gut.

“Yes we do,” Sam says with a horribly evil grin.

Sam and Caleb go at it then. Zayn knows what Sam wants, they all do. He wants someone to die, wants Harry to carry the guilt, the resentment forever. Harry knows it, too. Zayn can only imagine how guilty Harry would feel if they lost Caleb in all of this, if any of them got hurt. The pack has gathered closer to where Sam and Caleb swing at each other, teeth bared and fists clenched tightly. 

Zayn jumps in despite Harry’s calls for him to not do it. Caleb pushes him aside anyway, throws him to the ground harder than he means to, but he has his rage focused on Sam, will clear anything in his path to get to him. 

Jessica doesn’t let Amira watch and Tyler watches protectively over the two of them. Sam’s pack looks like they want to fight just as much, but nobody on Caleb’s side makes a move.

One of Sam’s pack mates rushes at Harry and Harry spins around quickly when Zayn warns him, adrenaline shooting through him as he punches the guy in the mouth. They go back and forth, Harry ducking punches, landing a few, wincing in pain the whole time. Zayn watches as Harry screams in anger, eventually getting the guy on the ground and pounding at his face with one hand. He stands up, satisfied with the man’s bloodied face.

Zayn makes his way to Harry and sees the guy coming up behind him too late, crying out when another person from Sam’s pack hits Harry in the back of the head. Harry crumples to the ground and the guy kicks him in the mouth and then the stomach. Harry sputters blood, falls over, and Louis bolts for the man, wrapping him in a chokehold before he can do anything else.

Zayn’s fist crunches against the guy’s nose and Zayn can feel the bone break against his knuckles. Louis holds him back, but the guy lands a couple of punches to Zayn’s eye and the skin splits. Zayn hits him again and again till he’s sure he’s unconscious, wiping blood from his brow. Louis drops the guy and Zayn drops to his knees beside Harry. He’s not sure how Harry’s still breathing, but he thanks the moon, wipes the blood from Harry’s lip with his sleeve. 

Zayn can’t care about people seeing their affection anymore. Harry can’t care either, needs to feel Zayn’s touch right now, needs to keep him close.

“You’re gonna come out of this, ok?” Zayn tells Harry.

The ghost of a smile tugs at Harry’s lips and Zayn blinks back tears. Harry sees even through his blurry vision, he sees the fear in Zayn’s eyes, of losing him, losing this whole fight, being alone. They’re too distracted, caught up in each other to notice Caleb turn halfway, the most any wolf can on any night other than a full moon.

Sam’s teeth are bared, but Caleb lunges for him, knocks him to the ground. He tears into Sam’s throat, the skin open and bleeding profusely. Caleb spits out any piece or drop of Sam’s flesh that remains in his mouth, immediately taking back his human form when Louis pulls him off Sam.

“Caleb, hey,” Louis tries to reach him. Amira joins in and Caleb comes down a bit, shakes himself off. 

Zayn only looks up now and he gently rests Harry’s head on the ground, rushing to his pack’s side. The other pack surrounds their alpha, shock, fear, and stress etched onto their faces. Caleb storms back suddenly, Zayn trying unsuccessfully to hold him back.

“Let this be a warning,” Caleb starts, voice low, a growl rumbling through his chest. “If I ever see any of you again, I won’t let you last as long as he did.”

Sam blinks from the ground, hand clamped over his neck, blood dripping over his fingers. He doesn’t say anything and Caleb stands over him, nudges him with his shoe.

“Harry’s coming with us, d’ya understand?” 

Sam nods once, unable to look Caleb in the eye.

“This is the end of this,” Caleb claims, turning to rejoin his pack.

Caleb finds Zayn and Zayn bows his head. Caleb puts his hand on the back of Zayn’s neck and bows, their foreheads barely touching. It means many things among their kind, that gesture- forgiveness, welcoming, acceptance, among others. Right now, it’s Caleb saying _it’s ok, let’s go home_. 

Zayn scoops Harry, half unconscious, off the ground. Harry leans on Zayn, arm still wrapped around his body, like he’s holding himself together. Harry looks back at the pack behind him, the pack that tortured him and used him, kept him around as nothing more than a scapegoat.

Zayn brings Harry back, calls out softly for him. “Hey.” Harry’s eyes meet Zayn’s and Zayn pulls him closer, careful not to hurt him. “We’re going home.”

~

The journey home is longer. Harry has to take it slow. He doesn’t know how he’s held out this long, but he pushes, Zayn pushes him, they all do.

When the cabin finally comes into view almost four days later, Harry half smiles, his swollen lip stretched over his teeth. And then he passes out, his cheek hitting the ground, Zayn’s alarmed voice and frantic calling for Caleb and Louis fades into nothingness.

~

Harry comes to hours later, finds himself in Zayn’s bed. It smells like him, like his soap and laundry and cigarettes vanilla all mixed together. Harry breathes it in and hisses in pain when he tries to roll over. Zayn appears in his sight then, rising from the leather chair in the corner.

“You’re awake.”

“How long have I been asleep?” Harry asks weakly. 

“Hours,” Zayn replies with a yawn, sitting gently beside Harry.

“What time is it?”

“Almost 3.”

Harry looks up and smiles to himself. “You turned our lights on,” he observes.

Zayn smiles sweetly, voice soft when he speaks again. “Knew you’d like that.”

Harry tries to pull himself into a sitting position, but his body aches from head to toe, the soreness and tiredness radiating deep in his bones. Zayn helps him, slows him down when Harry tries to move to fast.

“I thought I lost you.”

Harry watches Zayn, swallows nervously at the honesty, the fear that still lingers in his voice.

“I love you, Harry. I don’t know what I would have done with myself if- if anything worse happened to you.”

Harry reaches out for Zayn, adjusts himself despite the pain even the slightest movements cause his body so he’s closer to Zayn. He rests his forehead against Zayn’s, nuzzles their noses together, and Harry breathes him in again.

“I love you, too.”

Zayn thinks about a moment he once overheard between Amira and Caleb. They’d been arguing about something and Amira said in that sweet voice of hers that she saw the moon in Caleb, always did. 

Zayn gets it now. Maybe it’s a mate thing, but he sees the moon in Harry. Harry felt the moon the first time he saw Zayn, didn’t let himself feel it fully, tried to push the feeling away. Harry’s never seen mates together before this pack, but he wonders if they see the moon in each other, if they feel it the way he does. Zayn kisses Harry tenderly, thumbs at the cut on Harry’s lip.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Zayn suggests and Harry nods.

He winces with every motion, struggles to get out of bed, but Zayn helps him through it, is there for Harry to lean on. The two of them walk to the bathroom and Zayn strips Harry carefully, has to look away when he first sees Harry’s body. Purple and blue-green bruises stain the skin over the left side of his body, a few smaller bruises spotting the skin on his right. 

Harry climbs into the shower and opens his mouth to the warm water. It pours over him and he doesn’t move. And then Zayn notices his shoulders, shaking slightly. Harry cries for every time he’s ever been in pain, cries tears that burn with anger. He cries with relief and happiness that it’s over, everything’s over except for his time with Zayn, that’s just beginning. Happiness, guilt, relief, and years of anger, sadness, pain, and hopelessness rack Harry’s entire body.

Zayn discards his owns clothes and just stands with Harry, rests his chin on Harry’s shoulder. Harry tips his head to that side, rests it against Zayn’s. 

Neither of them are quite sure how long Harry stands under the water with Zayn. Zayn waited patiently and gently rinses Harry of dirt, sweat, blood that caked onto him. Zayn lathers Harry’s hair lightly, enough to get the blood out of his curls. 

Zayn helps Harry out of the shower, helps him towel off and pull on some flannel pajama pants. Harry complains about feeling helpless, but Zayn shushes him.

“Can we go watch the sunrise?”

“You should lie down, Harry, get some rest.”

“I know,” Harry winces when he stands up on his own. “I will later.”

~

Harry gets his way, of course. The two of them walk together, a blanket over their shoulders, Harry leaning on Zayn for support. It takes a lot of effort and discomfort for Harry to sit down, but he keeps himself hunched over to keep from stretching what must be multiple fractured, if not broken, ribs. 

Zayn pulls him close and Harry rests against Zayn’s shoulder. Harry looks up at the moon, still visible in the deep blue sky.

“How am I supposed to deal with the change in a few days?” Harry worries.

“It’s gonna hurt,” Zayn admits, “but I’ll be with you.”

“You have to run, Zayn, that’s what-“

“You’re my mate and I’m yours, Harry. I’m staying with you. We can stay right here by the lake and wait for the others or if you’re feeling up to it, we can go with them. We’ll figure it out.”

Harry breathes deeply. “Yeah.”

They share heat, keep their hands clasped underneath the blanket. Harry snuggles closer to Zayn and Zayn only opens himself more to Harry. It hurts Harry to even breathe, but he can’t hold back the relieved sigh that blows over his lips, can’t stop himself from inhaling Zayn’s scent so deeply it gives him a chill.

“’M tired,” Zayn says quietly, his breath ruffling Harry’s hair.

“Go to bed, love, I’ll meet you there.”

“S’alright, I’ll stay.”

“You don’t have to,” Harry smiles gently, turning his head only for Zayn to plant a kiss on his lips.

“I want to.”

They fall silent again and Harry groans when he adjusts himself a little. A cool breeze blows off the lake and Harry breathes it in, lets the fresh air fill his lungs. He turns slightly, sitting almost face to face with Zayn now.

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” Harry says weakly, brushing his fingertips over the cuts on Zayn’s eyebrow. 

“You would say that when you look like you should be in a full body cast,” Zayn says with a giggle, shaking his head at his mate.

Harry’s cheek dimples and he looks down, his expression more serious when Zayn guides him to look up again.

“I’m sorry you got hurt. And Caleb, I haven’t even seen him.”

“Don’t worry about me, babe, I’m alright.”

“I just- I wish none of you had to fight, I didn’t want anybody to get hurt.”

“And I didn’t want to lose you,” Zayn argues. “I knew what I was getting us into, but I was scared, Harry. You left without a word-“

“I had to, Zayn, I was trying to keep them away from you, from the pack. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I know, but I was still scared,” Zayn replies tiredly, resting his hand lightly against Harry’s neck. “I just wanted you to be ok. I wanted you back.”

Harry nods, presses a most gentle kiss on Zayn’s lips, ignoring the slight pain he feels on his own lip. 

“All I wanted was to stay with you,” Harry adds. “I would have fought for you, too, Zayn, I hope you know that. I wanted to, I should have,” Harry rambles, Zayn’s worried eyes on Harry the whole time. “I should have fought him myself, I should have earned my way out of the pack and fought to be with you-“

“You did, Harry. You stayed alive and you fought even when you couldn’t. You went through way too much to look at it that way.”

“S’all I can think about,” Harry confesses.

Zayn kisses Harry, both of them ignoring Harry’s swollen lip. Their mouths move gently, lazily, their tiredness and relief to be back together evident even in the way they kiss, the way they stop and go, soak each other up.

Harry draws away from Zayn slightly, goes in for one more before he gets comfortable against Zayn again. The sky is lightening, hints of pink and purple splattering the blue that’s paling by the minute. Birds start to chirp in the trees and Zayn and Harry start to drift off, but Harry forces himself to stay awake, takes in the silver-golden glow of the water as the sun rises.

Harry knows Zayn’s already fallen asleep, smiles to himself when he hears a soft little grunt from behind him. Harry takes his time standing up, tries to avoid waking Zayn, but fails.

“Thanks. Sorry.”

Zayn clicks his tongue. “No sorry’s or thank you’s.”

They walk back together, huddled under the blanket just as they were on their way to the lake. They bump into Caleb who’s leaving for his run. Harry takes in his bandaged nose, bruised jaw, and a couple of small cuts along his eyebrow and hairline.

“We’ll talk later,” Caleb says just as Harry opens his mouth to speak. “Go get some rest.”

Harry nods, silently thanks Caleb. They retreat to Zayn’s room, their room, and happily sink into bed together. Harry can’t lie down quite right, has to keep himself flat, so it takes a while for him to sleep. Zayn falls out quickly and Harry lets Zayn’s puffed breaths relax him. Harry falls asleep eventually to the sound of Zayn’s breathing, their fingers remaining interlocked even in sleep.

~

The two of them rest late into the day, catch up with the sleep they’ve missed. Harry wakes up first like usual, finds himself wishing Zayn was awake so Harry bugs him till he opens his eyes.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Harry rasps, his voice still weak, but slightly stronger than it was earlier in the day. 

“Piss off,” Zayn mumbles and Harry giggles hard enough that it hurts his ribs.

“A little grumpy this evening, love?”

Zayn hums and Harry climbs out of bed carefully, leaning over to kiss Zayn’s cheek and then the cut over his eye. He winces when he stands fully upright, but manages to make it to the living room ok.

The whole pack is just sitting around, Louis and Tyler eating like slobs, Jessica tuned into something on the little TV in the living room, and Amira and Caleb are sat on the couch together, snuggled close.

“Look who’s up,” Louis calls brightly and everyone greets Harry warmly, the girls wrapping him in a warm hug that Harry welcomes despite the pain it sends shooting through his side when Jessica squeezes a bit too hard.

“How are you feeling, mate?” Louis asks, his hand hovering near Harry’s shoulder.

“Could be worse,” Harry shrugs.

“Worse would mean you’re in your grave,” Tyler jokes. 

Louis shoves his shoulder and Harry smirks. Harry clears his throat to grab their attention when Louis and Tyler start bickering like a pair of brothers

“I just uh… I wanted to say thank you to you lot. I might not be here without you guys and I- I don’t know how to say how grateful I am, so yeah. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank us, Harry,” Amira replies, smiling warmly.

“I think I do. Nobody has to do for someone who isn’t a part of their pack what you guys did for me, especially you Caleb-“

“You are a part of this pack.”

Harry turns around and Zayn’s standing there, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, sweatshirt and sweatpants rumpled.

“You’re up,” Harry observes, nuzzling against Zayn when he comes over and wraps his arm around Harry.

“I think you were always part of the pack,” Caleb interrupts to everyone’s surprise. “I just wanted to protect them.”

“Even after what you said the other night… if anyone got hurt-“

“I know. I was being tough and I dunno, I just wanted to keep my pack safe at all costs. But I wouldn’t just leave you, Zayn.”

Zayn gulps, his throat dry, but he looks Caleb dead in the eyes and nods. 

“And what about not hurting our own kind?”

“That wasn’t our kind.”

Caleb’s voice is dark, warning. Amira rubs his arm to soothe him. They can all tell they’re alpha isn’t happy with what he had to do, but nobody knows what to say. Caleb steps out for a moment and Harry follows. Zayn tries to stop him, tells Harry that maybe he should just give Caleb a second, but Harry doesn’t listen.

He finds Caleb outside, his head in his hands and his breathing heavy.

“Caleb?”

“I’ll be back in a second.”

“Can I say something?” Harry asks, head bowed respectfully when Caleb looks up at him. 

Caleb nods so Harry continues. “I know you must be feeling guilty about hurting another like us, but… he wasn’t like us and I think you saw that, too. What you did was in defense of your pack and- and me. I’ll never be able to thank you.”

Caleb stares at Harry and something in his expression softens a little. Caleb notices that it’s a tough endeavor for Harry to even stand so he helps Harry, their hands locked for a brief moment.

“I don’t think those guys were ever your pack,” Caleb starts as Harry turns to go back, “I think you were always one of ours.”

Harry nods and can’t hide his grin. Caleb offers a small smile and the two of them go inside. The rest of the pack has to pretend like they weren’t listening at the door. Zayn and Louis collapse onto the couch just as the door creaks open, Amira and Jessica doing the same, leaving Tyler to just stand there awkwardly. 

“You’re terrible at eavesdropping,” Caleb blurts and they all start chuckling.

Amira climbs off the couch and kisses him as an apology. Zayn finds Harry, wraps him in as gentle an embrace as he can manage. Harry winces and Zayn whispers an apology against Harry’s mouth before pressing his lips there.

They separate when Louis shouts at them to “piss off and get a room”, laughing to themselves. Harry sits down on the couch, leans back as far as he can to avoid putting his ribs in worse condition. He has no idea what he’s going to do, how he’s going to heal and cope with this. Harry’s fearful for the next full moon and impatient for his normal day to day life. He wants to run again, swim in the lake, howl, make love to his mate. 

When Zayn sits beside him, all of those worries dissipate. Harry realizes then that the ever-present feeling of dread he’d been feeling before Sam came for him is gone now. The moon knows and he knows that it must really be over, that Harry is where he belongs now.

Zayn kisses him again then, ignores the pillow Louis throws at them. They breathe each other in and they both feel it- it sinks into their stomachs, embeds into their hearts, fills their senses. Harry’s found his pack and Zayn’s found his mate. They’re home. Harry is home.


End file.
